Remember the days when each morning was just a new day for a new pimple? When the mirror greeted you with a pizza-faced, pimply visage? When the number of blemishes you had at one time was as numerous as the stars in the sky? I do too. For me, that day is today.
Though I recently turned 25–by all accounts, the true age at which time modern adulthood begins–I still have acne that is not unlike that of my 15-year old self. And it is so embarrassing.
I’ve had two post-college jobs so far: one I didn’t love and one I do. The differences between these two jobs is striking. The culture and atmosphere at each job couldn’t be less alike. However, the one thing that did not change when I left my first job for my second is that I’m still sitting at a desk in front of a computer for 8+ hours a day.
I’m a super messy person. If you’ve ever seen my desk at work, the inside of my car, or–God forbid–my closet, you know that I speak the truth. My own clutter and chaos just don’t bother me. Any time I do actually clean up after myself, all the tidying I’ve done is usually undone within a week at best. Which is why it’s interesting that I’ve been making the bed almost every day for the past few months.
I should clarify that “making the bed” in my house is as simple as spreading the comforter into place and ensuring that both my and my husband’s pillows are in the right spots. No extra sheets are tucked in, no quilts are folded at the foot of the bed, and no throw pillows make their way into the equation. It’s just a simple rearrangement of some pillows and a blanket.
Growing up, I, as many youths do, had lots of questions about the ways of the world. Where does the wax disappear to when you burn a candle? Can you breathe through your nose and your mouth at the same time? How come Alyssa was allowed to get her ears double pierced but I’m not?? Many of the questions of my youth have cleared up over time (Wax oxidizes. Yes, you can breathe through both at the same time with practice. “Because you’re not Alyssa and you will follow my rules in my house”). But the answers to others have long eluded me into my young adulthood. But one of the questions I found myself wondering more often than others was, “How do you know when to get married?”
I graduated from college with a Bachelors degree in Communication. My university’s Communication program was nothing to boast about–there were just enough classes offered that you could complete the amount of academic hours required for a college major, but not much was offered beyond that. At my school, “Communication” was just the quickest way to say “Print, Audio, and Visual Journalism with Some Public Relations Influence." Most of my classes within my major were about similar subjects, and professors would sometimes cover the same topic that I’d learned in a previous class. No subject was covered so consistently and comprehensively though as the subject of how much money we should expect once we had graduated.
When I was in college, I constantly struggled with figuring out how to buy and prepare groceries just for myself. At my parents’ house, there was always an abundance of food to choose from. So naturally, when I started grocery shopping for myself, I emulated what I knew: purchasing a wide variety of food at quantities that were probably better fit for a family of four than for a young woman of 19. I inevitably ended up throwing out heaps of moldy produce and expired pantry items every month
Each night around 11 pm, my husband rolls toward my side of the bed and nudges me a little. “You should go to sleep,” he says with a voice that indicates he’s nearly asleep himself. “I know, I’m almost done,” I respond.
Almost done with what?
A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I wrestled with changing my name without losing my identity when I got married. And while the emotional aspect of changing my name was certainly difficult, once I finally made the decision to embrace an updated identity, I realized there was another hurdle I had to jump–the legal process.
I’m not a super eloquent conversationalist. I’m not good at asking questions, I second-guess what I’m saying, and I much prefer taking my time to sort out my thoughts on paper. I like to share what I think via written word.
But I’m not shy either, so when I have the time to write down write my thoughts, I’m happy to share them with others in a presentation or speech. In school, I was never nervous before presentations. When given the option for a college class final to write a research paper or give a 30-minute presentation to the class, I chose the presentation even though it was the unpopular option by a long shot. I just don’t mind sharing, especially when it’s something I care about.