Every once in awhile, I’m reminded that I don’t have things all figured out (I know, I really should know this by now). When I lost my job at the beginning of this year. When I wake up from a night out and feel my stomach plunge to the ground with regret over some ridiculously stupid thing I did and am unfortunate enough to remember. When I step on the scale just “see what the situation is” and realize I’ve gained ten pounds (all the better for Santa Con right?). When I hit Facebook and see yet another old friend gushing about their fabulous job/career/boyfriend/fiancé/husband/baby. When people ask me what I plan on doing with my masters degree and I give some pithy response because in truth, I really don’t know. When people ask what I do for a living and I laugh and take another sip of my drink because there really isn’t an easy answer. Or worse, when people ask me what I want to do, and I laugh, sip, sip, sip, frown and give some breezy response that I hope will get them off my case.
Here’s the truth though: not only do I not have things figured out, but I’m kind of a hot mess. Yet another temporary gig is coming to an end, leaving me with oodles of free time and a dwindling bank account. I have slept with more people than I care to admit, even to myself. I am in grad school because I’ve always been good at school and if all else fails, at least it’s something respectable to do. I frequently spend evenings in my apartment with the TV remote in one hand and my other hand filling my mouth with some sort of tasty, yet fattening goodie and washing it down with a beer. And I wonder why I’m single? Nope. Not a bit. I know why I’m single. But lazyisn’t exactly my highest selling point.