And another thing…

I forgot I had this blog.

80% of the time being an adult is pretty tricky. There was a time, pre-Canada, that things had little effect on me. I never over thought things, I just did them. Jobs were easier. There wasn’t as many rules and lists and probation. I started a job and did it. I was quickly thought of as reliable, and a good worker.

Then I experienced micromanagement for the first time. After quitting that job, I started a new one, only to get fired after two weeks because I, according to them, ‘couldn’t cut it.’ I subsequently landed a job as a box office manager at a comedy club. I worked unsociable hours and spent most of my time alone. I hated it.

Then I came home.

Except home hadn’t changed, I had. Sure, friends had settled down. That is expected of our age group. I needed to recharge my batteries anyway, so at first, it didn’t bother me. Then it became a challenge. People were not as available as they once were. I had gone from living a busy ex-pat life to one that came to a screeching halt. And little has changed.

It’s been over a year since I’ve returned. I fight a constant battle to keep myself occupied with an array of hobbies and interests. Since returning I’m on my second job , which on the surface is fun, however, a task as trivial as slicing lemons becomes ‘this isn’t how we slice lemons.’ I despair. It doesn’t matter. None of it does.

The people I work with are younger than me. Most of them are students. For most, this is probably their first job. They have certain degrees of responsibility. I call it the ‘McDonald’s Effect’ (based on the corporation’s penchant for awarding stars to give the illusion of responsibility, instead of a pay rise.) Give minimum wage workers a set of keys or a title, and they have power. Not a pay rise. Power.

At least they think they do.

When I had that false sense of power, I felt like I was making a difference and my ideas were important. When I entered more corporate office work, none of that mattered. I was at the bottom of the pile, my ideas didn’t matter. I went from having control to having none at all. It was a tough wake-up call.

Now, ten years on, I see it for what it is. None of it matters.

Just like the lemons.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

I’m Not Young Anymore

20140628_192423

I have been a bit lazy when it comes to updating this blog. I started this blog looking for an outlet during a very difficult time in my life. When I reached rock bottom I never felt the inspiration to write. But who wants to read about sadness times? Yeah, me either.

So, what prompted this sudden burst of blog posting? Young people. Goddamn perky young people. You know the type? Real go-getters who love the outdoors and do crafts and volunteer. The type of people who work at Camp America. Thing is, I kind of want to be one of those people, so I started my application for CA .

I don’t actually know if it is the right choice for me, but going through the application I had to fill out three skills that I could offer the programme. Luckily I was saved by the drop-down menu. I had to sit there and pick three things off that menu that I could sell myself on. That really got me thinking. The type of thinking that elicits rapid Facebook messaging to your best friend. You know, the messages that say ‘Omg, my life is not as good as I thought it was. FML’. And so on. So that best friend and I decided to work on the treatment for my for application video. After watching a few on YouTube he bluntly told me ‘you’re going to have to lie’. Damn perky young people.

What does all this have to do with blogging again? Seeing those videos inspired me. All those 19-year-old kids with so many hopes and dreams for the future. I used to be like that. I used to invite challenges and opportunities my way. I worked hard at things. I felt accomplished. Then a series of decisions lead me down different paths that didn’t make me happy at all. I was lost in the myriad of ‘what you’re supposed to be doing’ for so many years. Pressure gets to us all eventually, it’s how you respond to it that matters. And I didn’t respond to it very well.

Now, in my 29th year on earth (because one day we’ll be living on Mars with Matt Damon), I have a lot to think about if I want to make year 30 and beyond really matter. Older people always say to me ‘but you’re so young, you have plenty of time’. Really? Because when people said that to me ten years ago I would agree. But ten years have passed, and that saying is kind of depressing, because in another ten years it won’t seem right to say to a 39 year old ‘but you’re so young, you have plenty of time’ because that won’t happen. It’ll be more along the lines of ‘you’re 39 and you STILL don’t know what you’re doing with your life? When are you having a baby and getting married and doing all the things you’re supposed to do? Get it together, loser!’ Yikes.

And from that simple enquiry into Camp America I decided to spend the next 365 days living as authentically as I can. Am I destined to be working as a receptionist with co-workers who always need to leave by 3pm to pick up their kids from school? Was I destined to be the most average worker Blockbuster ever had? Should I have stuck to being an amateur TV reviewer? Or maybe my destiny was always supposed to be in the kitchens of Paris. Will I make it to Camp America?

I hope you join me in finding out.

Day 1