Looking Back on Twenty-Two!

Twenty-two is a weird age to be. It's the first birthday that you don't really care about. You are acutely aware of your age and feel equal parts young and old. After twenty-one, all other birthdays are a letdown. You're now legally allowed to drive (hi, sixteen), vote, buy lotto tickets and porn (what's good, eighteen?!), and drink so twenty-two is kind of an 'eh' year.

At twenty-two, you'll realize that pretty much everyone you went to high school with is either a) pregnant b) engaged c) married or d) all of the above and it never gets any less weird. At twenty-two, if I was a, b, c, or d, I'd be tweaking out.

At twenty-two, kids are kind of like Pandora's box. Some days, I see cute kids, smile, and imagine the day I'll have some of my own and other days, I see kids screaming and crying and it makes me want to go get my tubes tied. There really is no in between with this feeling.

However, you'll feel a little pressured at twenty-two to have kids. I mean, when my mom was twenty-two, she was pregnant with yours truly. That freaks me out almost as much as the ticking biological clock. Women are the most fertile from eighteen through twenty-four so I'm running out of time. Although lately, the mindset is that if I have kids, fantastic, and if I don't, oh well. I've taken a neutral stance.

At twenty-two, you'll have days where you feel like you can conquer the world and days where you feel like conquering a whole new series on Netflix and an entire pizza. What? Cooking for yourself sucks.

At twenty-two, you've finally gotten past all of those tiny insecurities you always had with your body. Enjoy this by having lots of sex. I mean, better enjoy that naked body before all of the weird wrinkles and sags start happening...right?!

At twenty-two, it's still acceptable to accidentally get drunk at a wine tasting without anyone thinking you have a problem. Likewise, it's still acceptable to go to a bar, order one drink, and get a little tipsy without anyone making fun of you.

At twenty-two, you become very aware of money and how much of it you probably don't have. You'll also realize how bad it's going to suck post-college when you have to pay back hundreds of thousands of dollars to the government. #ThanksObama

At twenty-two, you realize that the next time your age will have two of the same numbers is when you turn 33. Panic ensues.

At twenty-two, you start to understand how short life really is. It is both scary and grounding. We never really know when it'll be our last day.

At twenty-two, you'll realize that it is always easier to love than it is to hate.

At twenty-two, you tell yourself to find a real doctor and start getting back into the routine of yearly physical exams. You decide to put this off until you're twenty-three.

At twenty-two, you start to get serious about politics and worldly events. You watch all of the debates and realize how interested you are in contemporary issues. The debate schedule makes it's way into your weekly planner. The day of the debate you're a little too excited to watch. You make popcorn. While you're eating the popcorn, you ponder if this is what you have to look forward to in your thirties, forties, and beyond. You imagine yourself watching the debates at fifty. Panic ensues.

At twenty-two, you can eat whatever you want and nothing happens. People around you tell you this won't last. You choose not to believe this and grab another slice of pizza.

At twenty-two, while binge watching 'Friends' you begin to emotionally connect with the words to the theme song and to the trials and tribulations of the cast. #RossAndRachelForever

At twenty-two, you'll realize that you are, in fact, happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time.

At twenty-two, you'll realize that you can't do everything but you are still good enough.

Getting ready to wish for something I'm sure...

Twenty-two, thanks for being the best oddball year of my life. Here's to twenty-three...!

Hopping off the Fast Track

With only one week left of winter break, I am preparing to start my last semester of college. My last semester of college. I still cannot believe I graduate in four months and five days. Time flies when you're having fun...or when you're busy.

I've always prided myself in going above and beyond each semester and still managing to come out on top. Sophomore year I held two jobs, Junior year I had three, and last semester, I had two jobs and an internship that required another twenty hours of my time per week. I'm happy to report that I managed to balance all of that and maintain straight A's once again. However, last semester was also a huge wake up call.

Last semester, the average day went a little something like this: wake up at 4:00 AM to get ready for work at Dunkin Donuts. 4:55 AM, clock in at work. 10:00 AM, clock out, grab a croissant and/or muffin and/or bagel and drive home to my apartment to change. 10:28 AM, drive to school while eating the croissant/muffin/bagel. Class from 11:00-12:30 PM. 12:30 PM, drive home from school, change, leave for my internship. Internship from 2:00-6:00 PM. Arrive home at 6:30 PM, eat dinner, attempt to catch up on homework/readings, shower, and try to get to bed by 9:00 PM. Repeat through Friday. I was exhausted. Physically and mentally exhausted. 

The weeks themselves blended together. I would wake up on Monday morning and before I knew what was happening, it was Friday afternoon and I had made it through another week. Saturday I was always too exhausted to do anything so I spent much of the time sleeping and watching Netflix. Sunday mornings I tried to be productive by cleaning the apartment, doing laundry, starting the week's worth of homework I had, etc. Sunday nights were probably the worst. I would get into bed and become overwhelmed with a huge sense of dread for the week to come. Sometimes I would even cry. "I can't do this anymore!" I would say in between sobs to Jesse. 

At the end of November, my body began to turn against me. I stopped getting my period and developed a severe ear infection that I actually had no idea I had until a few days ago. It was at this time that I knew something had to change. It was equal parts scary and sad to realize that my daily routine of getting up at 4:00 AM, running around all day until 6:30 PM and getting an average of 5-6 hours of sleep per night was doing such harm to my body. You can will yourself to go on as much as you want but at some point, you're body will give up.

I've since left my job at Dunkin Donuts which was very bittersweet but ultimately, for the best. This semester, I'm vowing to enjoy my last few months at UNH. I want to be able to get up at a normal hour and not always feel exhausted. I want to dedicate more time to the things that matter like my relationship with Jesse, my friends and family, planning events for my internship, and schoolwork. 

Hoping off the fast track is not something I like doing. I have always prided myself in being able to handle just about anything but after last semester, I'm taking a step back for myself. Staying in a routine that makes you miserable, tired, irritable, etc. isn't fair to you. I was trying to prove something to myself but at the end of the day, none of that mattered. I'm learning that success isn't measured by how much you can do, the crazy schedule you've set up for yourself, or how busy you are. Success is being happy and healthy. At the end of the day, I want to have time for the things that matter the most to me.