Home again, home again

Generally, I would say that the average citizen of the world does NOT want to hear the trials and tribulations of a currently-unemployed, fresh-out-of-a-fancy-private-college, twenty-two year old woman. Like, tbh, I don't even want to hear about them. However, I, unfortunately, have found myself in this role. Well, as a hardcore journaler and general oversharer, I figured, why not write my ass of about this situation? And besides, I can't take myself seriously whenever I remember I have a Professional Website™ and my own URL in spite of the fact that my life is in a considerable amount of shambles.

Anyway, here's the deal: I'm supposed to be this, like, hustling-ambitious-playwright-woman, holding the reigns, kicking ass and taking names, but I'm at a point where all I know I'm passionate about is RuPaul's Drag Race and self-medicated with makeup tutorials. After a highly tumultous post-graduation summer of job searching, babysitting, supressing my feelings, and quitting the aforementioned babysitting job (being accosted by their scary dad), I chose to leave NYC in order to move back to Cleveland-- or Believeland, as those closest to me know it. And, in the wake of that decision, my relationship of two and a half years came to a close. It was a very amiable breakup (we still are sustaining our snapchat streak), but inevitably, it's been shitty. In general, I feel like I'm riding a bike without training wheels, preparing to careen off into oblivion at any moment, but extremely excited that I'm getting anywhere at all. 


My mom keeps referring to this list of life's most traumatic events as a way to assure me that the way I've been feeling is, in fact, normal, and not a sign of the end times. All things considered, I think I'm actually doing shockingly well. However, seeing that 1) loss of a relationship, 2) moving to a new city, and 3) job search all have a place on this list is comforting-- kind of in the same way that period cramps are comforting, in that you can use them as an excuse to getting out of shit you don't want to do. I hope that makes sense. 

So. In my slight doom-and-gloom, laying in my away-at-college sister's bed, I've begun to assess just what I want to do with this fresh, shiny new leaf I've turned over for myself. Become Instagram famous? No. Go back to New York? Honestly, not at all. I'm unsure. Again, the flailing is real. There are years of creative projects I've been putting off, stuffed into the dark corners of my mind, that I've been slowly trying to dust off and bring back into the light. But mostly, I'm just trying to be grateful for everything that I have and positively visualize my way to glory. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm intrigued as to what's about to unfold. 

So ya, maybe no one really wants to hear the ins-and-outs of my everyday, BUT! This is my attempt to take myself (and my own journey) seriously (lol) and revive my creativity, even if that means single-handedly dredging it up from the dirt in which it lays. JOIN ME!