I’ve never been a big fan of the Spice Girls. I mean, it was fun to mock my sister back in the day for the simple fact that she was a fan, and I may have secretly hidden a song or two of theirs on my MP3 player (’cause I didn’t have an iPod then either), but that was the extent of it for me. Now perhaps it’s because I didn’t idolize them, or maybe I just needed a little time (like 10 or so years), but this week, I finally decided what “spice” I would have been. Now I can’t sing, and whether I can dance is up for a heated debate, but I don’t know how many people would object if I started to call myself Flaky Spice.
Flake has been my self-descriptor of choice lately. Well, rather, it’s been the Mean Lady’s description of me. She thinks I am a flake. I suspect she’s not alone. She constantly whispers this into my ear, and then sometimes she yells it out, you know, like when I finally get two calls to be interviewed for perfectly good, responsible, grown up jobs, and I decide that’s not what I want anymore. I tell ya, if you ever want to make the Mean Lady mad, do that.
Since I keep hearing over and over how flaky I am, from a voice in my own head nonetheless, I thought I should do some damage control and see if it really was all bad. Being a flake has never been anything to aspire to as far as I was aware, but I thought I would check, just in case. According to Princeton University’s WordNet, flake can be defined as follows:
S: (n) eccentric, eccentric person, flake, oddball, geek (a person with an unusual or odd personality)
I was pleased when I read this. Each of those descriptors fits me very well, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. In fact, I particularly like oddball; if one thing is becoming clearer and clearer to me, it’s that I’m not like most people. None of us are. But one thing I’ve realized that is especially different about me is that I don’t care. I don’t want to be like other people.
Figuring out what I actually, truly want has been on my to-do list from the Universe this week, and it wasn’t very subtle about assigning the task either. Everywhere I went, there was something urging me to take inventory of what I truly want in life – from articles shared on Facebook, my horoscope to my angel cards. So I did what any flaky unemployed girl with time on her hands would do: I got to work.
From the nausea and dread I experienced while listening to a voicemail from a nice woman calling me for a job interview, it was pretty clear that going back to a full-time office job in a capacity similar to what I used to do was not on the list of things I wanted. It was so, so far down, that not even the Mean Lady could beat the idea into me. I was lucky enough to be chatting with a like-minded friend when I retrieved that voicemail, and we both agreed that these types of gut feelings shouldn’t be ignored. Not only does going against my gut feel like I have a brick in my stomach, it also brings me down in a very big way. After admitting to myself that I didn’t want to go to any of those interviews and much less take any of those jobs, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. And for the first time in weeks, I was happy. I had almost forgotten what that felt like.
Over the last week, I have taken a look at many aspects of my life and come up with a short list of things I truly want for the next little bit.
1. I want to be happy. I figure my best shot at this is actually following my gut, which is what this whole adventure was supposed to be about in the first place.
2. I want to write. And I want to write here. Often. I don’t want to shy away from the bad and the scary. I just want to write it all down, put it out there for the world to see, just because my gut tells me to do it.
3. I want to feel secure. Part of that means knowing that I will be able to have enough money to live. So I’ve decided I apply for work in stores that I like. All I’ve ever done in my adult life is work behind a computer, and although I know many people will tell me I’m insane, the idea of working in a clothing store right now sounds fun and exciting.
4. I also want to get rid of unnecessary things in my life. I’m counting down the days until my cell-phone contract allows me to downgrade to a bear bones package. I don’t need to check my emails and Facebook when I’m in line at the grocery store. And this big apartment that the Acadian and I live in – well let’s just say my current salary doesn’t allow for it anymore. So we’re going to be moving to something smaller. And I’m actually really excited about it. Notice was handed in to the superintendent this morning.
5. I want to stop beating myself over the head to convince myself I should do what everyone else does. I want to stop questioning why I can’t just be happy doing the same job I’ve done for years and just embrace the change coming my way. I want to be the person I am and not worry about what other people think. These are all the hardest to do, but when I’m true to myself, no matter how crazy it appears to the outside world, I really do feel truly happy.
6. I want to stop worrying. No, I don’t know where all of this is going to lead. But what I am sure about is that I want to try living this way and see where it takes me. I don’t want to predict. I don’t want to stress about the future. I don’t want the pressure of coming up with a master plan. I just want to live now. And I want to enjoy living.
And now, I want to finish this post and hang out with the Acadian. As long as I am by his side, a better man, partner and friend is one thing I’ll never want for.This post may contain affiliate links.
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