Waking up at 6 in the morning is a problem.
Luckily, I’ve always been a morning person.
Waking up has never really been the issue.
…The problem is, I’m also a night person. Which means I’m on my computer mindlessly shopping the J. Crew Sale section with money I don’t have and then I (obviously) have to ‘pin’ at least 40 things before bed because heaven forbid I win a million dollars tomorrow or meet the man of my dreams and I have to start putting my perfectly pinned virtual bulletin board to good use starting immediately. And before you know it, it’s 1 AM and I’m on the seventh episode in a row of Weeds and I’m considering opening a medicinal marijuana cupcake bakery instead of my current lifestyle choices and I remember that I have to get up in 5 hours and all of a sudden, I realize that tomorrow is going to be a very, very, long day.
And both of these things wouldn’t necessarily be an issue if it weren’t for the fact that during the middle of that following day, I fall into a waking coma, retreat into some creepy form of a zombie creature, lose all ability to actively communicate with the rest of the human race and can be pushed over a metaphorical cliff edge with a one wrong glance in front of the coffee machine from the perfect stranger.
And that my friends… that.
…is the real problem.
Because society hasn’t really ok’ed the whole cave creature routine I pull out every day around 2 pm. You aren’t supposed to grunt at the friendly individuals at the cashwrap at the local grocery store when they ask how your day is going. You aren’t supposed to feel instinctively close to vomiting at couples who are happy and in love and living their life like a little hallmark card as they pass you during your morning caffeine trip. As a 20-something, you’re supposed to be a healthy, well-adjusted, just-stumbled-out-of-bed-looking-like-a-detergent-and-neutrogena-commericial, perky, upbeat, Katie Holmes, Katherine Heigl, Reese Witherspoon member of society.
And don’t you DARE forget that.
Perhaps, I’m the exception to this rule then. I’m still waiting for my skin to look like something out of a skin care commercial. And my disposition some days is closer to that dog from Sandlot than some cute heroin from the most recent chick-flick.
In short, my friends, I have failed.
But at the same time…
I feel like I kind of like it.
I mean what’s a typical day without a little conflict?
Should I actually wear normal clothing today? Or should I attempt to pull off the yoga-pants-are-not-leggings-and-therefore-can-be-worn-in-place-of-actual-dress-pants-routine? Should I eat
chipotle straight carbs for lunch? Is that even a question? Paying extra for guacamole? Absolutely. Duh. It’s been one of those days. Should I see if I can pull off driving in the HOV two-passenger lane to avoid traffic risking the fact that there is no one next to me? Oh, that reminds me, I’m single and it’s Valentines day. Of course I am. And what is this creepy stain on my shirt? What is that? Is that…? Just don’t think about it. Probably guacamole. Dammit, I was supposed to turn back there. Sorry, sorry, female driver at the wheel! Promoting stereotypes for all! I love this song. I wish I could sing. Whatever, no one can hear me, I’m belting this shit. Except my window is open. Oh hi hot man.. who now knows I can’t sing. Wait! I have other redeeming qualities! Come back!!!! Ask for my number like in the movies! .. Is it Friday yet? It’s only Tuesday??? Screw it. Is it five yet? I need a drink.
And so on and so forth.
…But it’s more than that right?
Because it’s also the “I’ve had a few drinks and now I want to call my ex” problem. It’s the “I’ve had more than a few drinks and have actually called my ex (perhaps several times) and now I don’t know whether to die or keep drinking (most likely the latter)”. It’s the “I’ve gained ten pounds from eating my feelings from my ex never calling me back after I called him 5 times after a few drinks last Friday night.”
Yep. been there.
or how about…
It’s the “I went to a four-year institution GOT MY DEGREE, and now I’m working alongside people who deal pot in the kitchen with the fry cooks between serving patrons at an average food and beverage chain” It’s the “I’m employed at a job I hate, working by people who all hate their jobs, hating our insipid little lives in harmonious unity and I really, really hate that.” It’s the “I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I have no direction. I have no future. I wish I was back in college hungover on my couch. Wah.”
… believe me, been there too.
But here’s the thing.
All of these little problems, these things, people, situations that occupy our day after day after day in our 20’s? Well misery loves company right? And it’s a comfort to know that these same things we go through every single day, some one else (most likely several people) are going through as well.
That no one is Kate Hudson. Not even Kate Hudson is Kate Hudson. (Yeah, try that inception-esque mind trip on for size) No one’s biggest problem is trying to get rid of a super hot guy so we can write a story that will let us have free-rein in the most up and coming magazine in New York. And if this person exists, please show me her so we can kidnap her and force her to tell us her secrets.
So instead of dwelling on all of our little problems? Let’s dwell on solutions. Because it’s getting from point a (the problem) to point b (the solution) that are going to make us better women in our 30’s and beyond. Each crisis you fight through, LEARN from it.
Honestly, I’m a book of problems. I can’t get over some guy in my past. I can’t find a “real job”. I constantly have stains on my shirt and I should have probably gone to work out at least three hours ago before eating several spoonfuls of nutella in my bed while watching a lifetime movie marathon was even in my atmosphere. I drink too much on the weekends. Sometimes, I’m lucky if I get a chance to shower in the mornings. I’m awkward and under-dressed. I’m inappropriate and late. But honestly, these problems.. when you think about it, are what makes being in your 20’s so special. They’re so relevant to our age. Do you think when I’m 50, I’m going to be making blackout texts to some guy I used to date? For the love of all that is holy, I sure AS HELL hope not.
….Because that might actually be a problem.
So for now, let’s try to enjoy the things that make this time in our lives so unique. That we don’t have it all together but hopefully, through trial and error, through fail on fail on fail on fail.. we’ll get there. And we’ll be better, wiser, (dare I say more attractive?) women because of it. That each problem you go through in your 20’s, makes us one step closer to that chick-flick easy-breezy-cover-girl dream. And well if not?
…That girl kind of sucks anyway.
So here’s to all our 20 something problems. To being spastic, unprepared, clumsy, unlucky and occasionally (more often than not), drunk.
Yep, I said it.
Cheers to these years.
Cheers to being 22 and not knowing what the hell I want to do with my life.
Cheers to my problems.
Now drink up, it’s Tuesday and there are sober girls in China.