Isn’t this supposed to be the most exciting time of my life – the time where single girls have fancy jobs, live it up, meet interesting gentlemen in bars, travel to Greece and Zambia and Italy, are allowed to blow their entire paychecks on fabulous attire – and all the while, have smokin’ bodies and perky breasts because they have not yet given birth?
Sometimes, I think that my married friends have a very skewed view of my life – just like I probably often have of theirs.
Let me tell you what my daily life has actually been like.
I hit the snooze alarm for an entire hour before finally getting up, already late, and throwing on whatever t-shirt is closest and the one pair of jeans that’s fitting these days. I do not accessorize. I do not do my hair. I do not wear perfume. I barely smear makeup onto my face before grabbing my pre-packed breakfast AND lunch and running out to my 1990 Honda Accord that has been missing a hubcap for 7 YEARS now.
Usually my car starts within 2 tries. I drive 5 minutes to work and grab a cup of coffee on the way to my desk. Approximately the first 7 minutes of the day consist of checking my Gmail and Facebook, but that is just about all of the personal internet time I take before diving into a job that keeps my brain on speed for the rest of the day. Thankfully, I am feeling more and more competent every week, and finally pull my weight as a contributing member of the team – but leave with crossed eyes and a deflated brain from thinking so hard. As strange as it sounds, I am beginning to get addicted to the fatigue.
My evenings are a balancing act of “have dinner (cheese and alcohol does not count, Annie),” “run 5 errands,” “stick to your commitments,” “try to be nice to the people around you,” and “burn off every calorie that you consumed while sitting still all day.” Honestly, my thighs. What is happening? I’m referring to it as the “urban spread.”
I get home from the gym at 10pm, but only because that is when the YMCA closes, and not because I feel like I have paid my due penance. A rinse-off shower follows (I wash my hair as infrequently as possible to keep my cheap dye job from turning Soviet purple), and then I crawl into bed with every intention of finishing “Eclipse.” But then I remember that I have to pay some bills, I have to order some wedding gifts, I have to return some emails, I have to do some laundry, I have to clean my bathroom floor, I have to pre-pack my breakfast AND lunch.
Therefore, I have been reading “Eclipse,” young adult fiction about teenage vampires, for 8 weeks now.
I am awake until 1am before putting in my sexy mouth guard and sleeping for not-long-enough before hitting the snooze alarm for an entire hour the next morning and doing it all again.
Some of you will read this, tssk-tssk, and patronizingly say, “This girl has no idea that this is the best time of her life.” Others might think, “What an ungrateful shrew.” Dr. Dan will be proud of my dental dedication. All I’m saying is that currently life feels far from glamorous, I do not know how to have a full-time job and still pursue writing, my thighs are growing while the pool of single men is shrinking, and that I would be bored if I weren’t so exhausted all the time.