Ohh these shelves. Still not complete, but maybe the largest life lesson in the making I have ever had. So you know that day when everything hits you? You fall on your face and drown in your tears? These shelves were it.
It wasn't the shelves per say, but more the events leading up to them.
Let me bring you back a few weeks... the week I found out I was graduating this coming August. At first I was ecstatic, I have been trying to get out of school for some time now, that way my two jobs, internship, full load of classes and active member of various organizations list could be chopped down to one full-time, contract binding job.
But here is the thing they don't explain when you decide on a whim that you want to graduate a year early... You are going to freak out.
Now this freak out was not one rapid movement. It worked it's way up over time. First I was a little concerned when I found out the company I have been trying to prove myself to may not have a position opened. There were a few tears (or a lot according to my mom). Senses heightened as I began to realize I was signed for a years lease at an apartment I perhaps won't be living in if I can't stay in Lubbock. And no way to pay for it without an income. I asked if Monopoly money would work and they said no.
Things get a little scary when you start realizing just how adult you have too be. The truth is even us who did not come from wealth, that being me, are very protected. You don't think about everything your parents do until you see you might have to do it on your own. No more extra money every month just because I'm me and I am living (allowance), no more gas card, no more cell phone bill paid for (goodbye iPhone you are far too expensive for a journalist salary), and NO MORE SHOPPING BECAUSE I NEED A BREAK. This is perhaps the hardest for my to cope with. Seeing that when this mental break down occurred I went straight to T.C Ellis.
Here I was, a few nights in of crying to my mom, and one night of crying to my roommates. They are so sweet trying to help me not feel so alone. But that is something else they don't tell you when you are going to graduate. You are completely alone. The only people that seem to truly understand what you are going through are those going through it too. And they are too busy crying their eyes out to talk.
So, trying to be an adult, and trying to cope with the real world that keeps slapping my in the face, I have begun to do outlandish things that in my mind seem adult like. I buy flowers all the time for our house. And I try to decorate like an adult, which is where the shelves come in.
The thing being an adult doesn't teach you... how to use nails. Good thing I am a winner when it comes to punching un useable holes into a wall.
I probably should have never taken on the project, the day had already taken its turn. See my mom was supposed to fly in that morning. She got to the Austin airport an hour and a half early and still didn't get through security in time. It was almost like the universe wanted me to go down in flames. And boy did it get its wish.
Perhaps I should let you in on this secret of mine, I have no feelings. I cry maybe once a year and it is usually because of some completely irrelevant commercial. And when I see others crying I tense up, it freaks me out. I don't know if I should hug you (I don't like hugs) or leave you alone. It usually ends in the medium awkward back pat. But these shelves, man did they get me good.
Assembling them started out hard. I put the screws in but didn't know there was a mount for the wall. I put the mount on but didn't know there were protectors for the screws. I put the protectors in but didn't know our walls were as thin as the 1st bears house and a big bad wolf called my hammer blew it all down. Almost literally with these gaping holes.
It was about my 5th attempt to get the shelf on the wall that my life came crashing down. I fell to the floor bawling. I couldn't move, I couldn't see, I was doing that awful gasping thing kids do when they cry too long. I was a wreck, and all over some shelves.
Though after the tears had cleared and my mom finally got on a stand by flight, she was so determined she got to the airport four hours early this time, I realized it was not the shelves at all. It was me being scared. And me not being able to see my mom, because we all know there is nothing better, or worse, than seeing your mom when you are freaking out.
I'm still scared for my future. There is no telling what will happen, how I will pay for things, where I will be, and if all my work has paid off. I truthfully don't know anything, and have no good outlook. But I don't think I'm the only one. The job market is scary, but we have to get out there. Just a few weeks ago I was a dreamer, figuring I could be a journalist anywhere my heart desired (in a plausible market size of course), now I know that isn't the case.
The thing about dreaming is that your ability is all you need. If you want it bad enough and you work hard enough, in a dream you will get what you want. Life isn't actually like that. You can work as hard as ever, but don't have the right color hair or fall into the right laps and you won't get the job.
Everyone keeps telling me I will be fine. Something will happen. I'm sure they are right, but until it does I will worry, because as college graduates that is all we really have to hold onto. Worry.
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