WORKING WOMAN

There is no more school. There are no more lax deadlines. There is no more deferment for my loans.

I’m a working woman. And adult. Fully supporting myself. Paying my own bills. Running my own life. Steering my own destiny.

Is there anything more exhilarating and terrifying than being the captain of your own ship? Especially when you have to coordinate the sailors that all play a role in your life, navigate the sea (over which you have no control), and look to the sun when it will show and the clouds when it won’t.

Only, I don’t want this to be it. I want to meet other ships. I want to make landfall. I want to steer a whole fleet one day. It’s so easy to become so consumed with the sails and the pulleys and the deck and the underbelly and all the minutia of the ship that you can’t see outside to the vastness of the sea.

I’ve also gained 10 pounds since I started working, so there’s that. I am now on a fitness crusade, because that shit ain’t gone fly. I also am still single so can’t be settling into the comfortable lifestyle yet.

My mind is always turning to what is next. I am trying to grasp the now, but as a working woman (and a thinking woman), it’s hard, I must admit.

The now. The now. What’s so special about the now anyways? You never know what the future holds. The now is already unrolled before you, in all it’s mundanity.