One of the frustrating things about life after college is the constant feeling of ineptitude.
Every time I bust my butt to meet new people, explore companies and send resumes nothing happens. Every time I get back to a low but comfortable bank balance, something always comes up.
I have a $440 ticket due next week. I owe my dad over $200 for four new tires I didn't know I needed till I noticed the flat when heading out for my evening walk.
I've been working for my grandfather, who is a pastor, setting up a filing system both on his computer and for paperwork. The man has thousands of sermons. I feel like I'm really earning the money he pays me... then I realize
I'm using twice as much gas with going between work, home and my grandparents
(and, occasionally, Boyfriend's apartment).
I suppose this is the one step forward, two steps back philosophy.
...but tonight I've had enough.
I'm a small woman, not thin but rather short. Despite my love for debate, I am a rather mild mannered person--chatty but shy in a way. Loud voices ring big brass bells in my ears, scaring me. Even if I'm insulting someone, my voice is usually low.
...let's just say I'm not opposed to insulting people, no matter how much I disagree with the practice.
Tonight's different. The payments and bills are due. Boyfriend is always "tired"
when we get done with a walk or an event.
I hate these shoes that make my feet look big.
The dye in my hair is taking forever to grow out.
I've got more blemishes on my face.
I look fat in EVERYTHING!
Yeah yeah, it's ridiculous. The fear and anger just build up until I'm stressing out about vacuuming!
Revving my pedal to the floor, I sped out of boyfriend's complex and in the direction of my current residence. At the fork in the road, my hands decided to veer the car right instead of left.
One block.
Three blocks.
Five miles.
"AAAAAAAAH!!!"
The shrillest wildest scream echoed out of my chest and into the tiny car. I was stunned. From where did I pull this abandonment to let my air loose?
Straight up from my tired feet to my frustrated hips to my sore back, heavy shoulders, throbbing head--
I did it again and again and again till I didn't care that adjacent drivers were staring. With every heavy rush of breath, my vocal chords vibrated faster and faster. The sound lifted higher and higher, wider and wider.
I hoped they could all hear.
The policeman that gave me the ticket.
The man at the tire store.
The gas pump.
My boyfriend.
Everyone I've ever met. I envisioned them hearing my reckless shrieks and savored the looks of shock on their faces.
At the end of the day, the bills and payments are still due, the car still sucks gas, and Boyfriend is still bewildering.
The best I can do--hell, the best any of us can do-- is scream! Scream and shout and shriek and hollar until your lungs hurt because today it's the only relief you will get.
Every time I bust my butt to meet new people, explore companies and send resumes nothing happens. Every time I get back to a low but comfortable bank balance, something always comes up.
I have a $440 ticket due next week. I owe my dad over $200 for four new tires I didn't know I needed till I noticed the flat when heading out for my evening walk.
I've been working for my grandfather, who is a pastor, setting up a filing system both on his computer and for paperwork. The man has thousands of sermons. I feel like I'm really earning the money he pays me... then I realize
I'm using twice as much gas with going between work, home and my grandparents
(and, occasionally, Boyfriend's apartment).
I suppose this is the one step forward, two steps back philosophy.
...but tonight I've had enough.
I'm a small woman, not thin but rather short. Despite my love for debate, I am a rather mild mannered person--chatty but shy in a way. Loud voices ring big brass bells in my ears, scaring me. Even if I'm insulting someone, my voice is usually low.
...let's just say I'm not opposed to insulting people, no matter how much I disagree with the practice.
Tonight's different. The payments and bills are due. Boyfriend is always "tired"
when we get done with a walk or an event.
I hate these shoes that make my feet look big.
The dye in my hair is taking forever to grow out.
I've got more blemishes on my face.
I look fat in EVERYTHING!
Yeah yeah, it's ridiculous. The fear and anger just build up until I'm stressing out about vacuuming!
Revving my pedal to the floor, I sped out of boyfriend's complex and in the direction of my current residence. At the fork in the road, my hands decided to veer the car right instead of left.
One block.
Three blocks.
Five miles.
"AAAAAAAAH!!!"
The shrillest wildest scream echoed out of my chest and into the tiny car. I was stunned. From where did I pull this abandonment to let my air loose?
Straight up from my tired feet to my frustrated hips to my sore back, heavy shoulders, throbbing head--
I did it again and again and again till I didn't care that adjacent drivers were staring. With every heavy rush of breath, my vocal chords vibrated faster and faster. The sound lifted higher and higher, wider and wider.
I hoped they could all hear.
The policeman that gave me the ticket.
The man at the tire store.
The gas pump.
My boyfriend.
Everyone I've ever met. I envisioned them hearing my reckless shrieks and savored the looks of shock on their faces.
At the end of the day, the bills and payments are still due, the car still sucks gas, and Boyfriend is still bewildering.
The best I can do--hell, the best any of us can do-- is scream! Scream and shout and shriek and hollar until your lungs hurt because today it's the only relief you will get.
No comments:
Post a Comment