Oh, the places you'll go - or won't go..or can't afford to go to..

I've always loved Dr. Seuss, and specifically Oh, The Places You'll Go! I don't know why but I always feel like what's written in that book is always relevant to life no matter what age you're reading it at. It's inspirational for kids, but it's also somehow reassuring to read as an adult.

And then things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

 

 

I've freaked out about being an adult before in this post so I won't go into as much detail, other than my "adult" life is somewhat figured out until March 31st, 2013. That date is starting to feel like my sanity's expiration date (that's the day my contract is over at Public Health Ontario). Needless to say I feel like I'm going to be spending the first few years of "adult life" flying by the seat of my pants trying to cling on to some semblance of sanity.

 

What they don't tell you is that when things start to happen they happen quickly - good quick and bad quick. One day you're drinking energy drinks and planning hangouts in a common room the next day you're looking at the most affordable car insurance companies and calculating the 4.99% interest rate on your car over five years. I honestly can say that I didn't like high school, and yet I miss it. I mean, it felt like the hardest thing in the world to get through, but you had one over-arching goal at the end of it: be an adult. When you were in high school there was drama and heartache, but for the most part (looking back) there was not that much to worry about. Then, you get to be an adult.

 

Some days are brilliant, other days the credit card companies, phone companies and stupid entitled people complaining about their "misfortune" because-they-finally-have-to-be-responsible-for-once-in-their-freaking-lives just get to you. You can't just go home and sit down to a dinner you didn't make. You have to suck it up, and go run those errands, pay those bills and be an adult.

 

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

 

Now, this is where I feel like I am right now.

 

I'm just waiting. Waiting to see if I stay in Toronto, get to lease that horse I've been emailing the girl about, get a dog, graduate with distinction, get a job... The Waiting Place is one of the worst places to be, so I've found. I believe that most of that is because I'm generally not a patient person (just ask anyone who knows me), but mostly because they painted The Waiting Place with question marks...everywhere.

 

I also feel like being jammed in The Waiting Place I always end up dreaming these fantastic dreams and almost drowning myself in the pressure to live up to all of them. One day I'm moving to Timmins the next day I'm living in Toronto till March 31st. I have an apartment and then I'm living with a family friend - still not finding a place to live. It honestly feels like at this moment the only constant thing in my life is that my cat really goes nuts for Purebites treats and I'm still addicted to coffee. Not inherently bad things, just not very applicable to career/adult life.

 

Unlike Oh, The Places You'll Go! you can't always just make things happen at will. I've realised that it's really easy to just tell people, don't wait for things to happen - make things happen! But there's that spot in between the making and happening that feels an awful lot like just plain waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And holding your breath until it doesn't feel like your lungs can possibly hold enough air to sustain you and then being told you need to run a marathon amount of distance because surprise! Zombie Apocalypse. 

 

Amid all this lack of oxygen-running-away-from-zombie-hordes-in-order-to-survive-and-prosper, good things happen. You realise that you have great friends, great family, a weird cat with awkward tendencies like needing to watch you pee and starting almost every morning by poking you in the boob and of course things that genuinely make it worth it to get up every morning.

 

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

 

 

 

All Dr. Seuss quotes can be found at this page. 

 



The rotten, no good, stinking awful bad day.

I am not someone who uses their blog just to complain about their life or the bad things that happen to them, unless you already think I do that…and in that case prepare to not be disappointed!

I was trying to find an eloquent way of phrasing this, someway that would make me look witty and funny and light-hearted, but honestly it’s just one of those days where I just can’t. Today just blows. That’s it – simple as that, today sucks [insert animal of choice’s scrotum here].

It started at the very moment 11:59pm, October 21^st became 12:00am, October 22^nd. My fantastic neighbour decided to blast salsa music loud enough to shake my walls while I tried to para barail la bamba my way to sleep. This resulted in two phone calls to the police complaining about the noise, each punctuated by the guinea pigs wheeking up a storm in some convoluted reasoning that I was up, therefore it was breakfast. It was not breakfast. It was 12:30am.

It felt as though I had just fallen asleep when the cat thought he’d seen a haphazard plan for me to leave him, because he glued himself to my chest in a way that would have made liquid cement jealous. After trying to pry him away which just succeeded in reinforcing his thoughts on being abandoned, I gave up with him clinging to me for dear life and fell asleep with the cat strapped to my chest. If he wasn’t so damn cute he’d have gone out the window.

At 6-deargodthat’searly-something my alarm screeched to life, waking me up in a way that made me feel like I’d downed a couple bottles of wine the night before. I hadn’t, I’m pretty sure I looked it though, because for the first time since I got him the cat just waited politely on the bed for his food. I got out the door and blasted music just as the streetcar blew past me, four minutes early and kept going even though I ran for it realizing halfway there I left my coffee in my apartment, where it’s sitting right now most likely feeding the perpetual fruit flies.

At this point, I’m so incredibly frustrated with my program and just the future I can just feel my blood pressure skyrocketing. I know a lot of people can empathize with feeling, but I’m trying to find a job in Toronto. I’ve applied to over 30 jobs and followed up with many of them to see where I can “improve” and this has ended in me having them tell me I’m over-qualified for a position. I’m over-qualified. I want to be a bloody cashier! “Why don’t you apply for public relations jobs – you have a lot of experience!” That would be great if I was actually qualified for any of those jobs. It’s like I’m stuck in some trying-to-find-a-job-hell’s version of limbo and I can’t get out. Do I make myself look less employable to get a job? Is that really what I’m going to have to do?

I’ve just arranged a meeting with my parents because as it stands now, I’m looking to move back home and try to find something to do in terms of work. Is this where I wanted to be at 21? Living at home with my parents? It’s starting to look like adult Kaileigh grabbed a ticket on a greyhound headed out of Toronto and left me here with bills and responsibilities and like 40 copies of my resume.

I would say it’s only going to look up, but I have to take the TTC home tonight and relying to the TTC to cheer you up is like giving a monkey a loaded hand gun and saying don’t shoot. ThisdayisalmostoverThisdayisalmostoverThisdayisalmostover.