Fail

I have failed my new year’s resolution already.  And it’s only March!

For some reason, I haven’t felt up to writing the past couple weeks—partly because there’s not much to write about, and partly because I’ve just been completely unmotivated to do anything.  I have felt so unproductive these past few weeks and it seems like things just keep getting worse.  Being an adult is not what I had hoped it would be.

I take you back to one night in college when I was deep in the boring studies of Literary Criticism (I’m sorry, but it was boring).  I remember thinking to myself how much I wish I had a boring desk job (even if I hated it) where I could at least be making money for spending my life tediously passing the time away with useless meaningless tasks.

I look back on that moment frequently now, as I make transfers and withdrawals for customers at the bank—things that could easily be done online or at an Automated Teller Machine (that’s an ATM, in case you—like it seems of our customers—don’t understand what it stands for).  But I’ve learned a one important lesson since becoming “an adult”—even though most days I don’t feel worthy or wanting of that title.  All of that “extra cash” I earn while repeating the same menial movements day after day just disappears—rent, groceries, insurance, electric, internet, etc, etc, etcetera…

And then tax time rolls around and oh, how excited I was to treat myself to some new mugs and maybe go out on a date.  But sure enough, life caught up with me. Apparently, past-Jamie (pre-adult-Jamie) made a mistake when filling out my W4 paperwork for work.  And now, instead of my new mugs and a date night, I owe a chunk of money to the good old U S of A.

But if that wasn’t enough to get me annoyed with adult life, my brand new (to me—certified used) car decides it doesn’t like to start in the cold weather. Personally, I think that’s a load of horsey doo-doo. I grew up in Mass and have been through my share of bitter cold winters and never heard anything like that. Then I move down south to the slightly less bitter Virginia, and people talk about it like it happens all the time… seems a little fishy to me.  With my car not working I’ve been late to work a couple times and Jim had to skip a few hours of work one day when I took his car (he also used it as an excuse to get out of class early, so at least someone is benefiting).

When I finally got my car to the shop, after it had been working on and off (and jumped when not) for a week and a half, the mechanic told me there was nothing wrong with it.  Frustrated, I explained to her that it had not started multiple times now and had needed to be jumped.  So there must be something wrong with it.  She told me it was probably because of the cold.  I got audibly upset with her, but she insisted they had tested the battery and everything and they couldn’t find a problem.  I left the shop and parked across the street to call my mother and leave her a half-screaming/half-crying voicemail.

And now, almost a month since my last blog post, I am failing at the one thing that might actually bring me happiness someday.  Other than a semi-monthly technical editing gig, this blog is the only way that I keep myself writing.  I say that I want to be a writer and that I love writing, yet I can’t even force myself to write a weekly post about the nothingness that is my life.  If being an adult involves following your passions and trying to make a living doing something you love, I am most definitely failing at that.

But I haven’t stopped trying.  This post is proof of that… and I have already emailed HR to fix my tax withholdings.  So, as long as my car starts on Monday, hopefully I can work myself up to a C- on the adult report card.