Streams of Consciousness

If you’re one of the few people who have decided to follow my blog then buckle your seat belts folks because you’re in for a bumpy ride.

I’ve been in a blog post drought for roughly 3 weeks now? Possibly longer?

Anywho – I’m baaaccckkkk 🙂

There are lots of things I’ve thought about writing about, but I couldn’t decide on one topic.

This blog post may read similar to a diary of sorts. *shrug*

Let’s talk about microaggressions. Microaggressions are the sort of actions that make me say that I’m tired of white people. That’s not to say that minorities aren’t guilty of microaggressions too because we certainly are. I’ve been the victim of microaggressions from both.

I’m not sure who is following my blog at this point so I’ll be brief here. One of my co-workers tried me recently. Let me say that again. Some dude at work that I have to work with and pretend to like on a regular basis tried me. At work. The place where I make money so that I can afford my bills and pay for food. I wanted to emphasize that for the people in the back.

We use a chat feature at work so that we can blast everyone with useful information. Given that for the most part we’re a bunch of 20 somethings, and that I work with primarily grown-ass men children, the chat is usually full of crack, memes, and bad jokes (often perpetuated by myself).

This dude at work takes a picture of The Donald, and uses it as his chat profile icon. He makes a point to tell me to take a look at it, and asks if I like this new photo. It was irritating. Inappropriate. Targeted. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a prime example of a microaggression – an intentional act used to challenge or mock a characteristic or identity of a person. Oftentimes this characteristic or identity is something that a person cannot change about themselves (or at least not easily) such as race, sexual orientation, physical ability, hair texture, etc. As a socially conscious, unashamedly liberal, woman of color, The Donald literally stands for everything that I don’t. The personal is political.

Grumble. Next topic.

Adulthood is hard. I read what is technically considered a self-help book when I first got out of college called Adulting by Kelly Williams Brown, a then late 20-something herself. The book explored a variety of topics, including relationships, cooking, careers, etc. It was hilarious, and full of actually good advice. I’d like to read this book again now that I’m deeper into my adulthood than I was a few years back.

What I’ve found interesting about adulthood is that I looked at this season of life looking forward to being independent, self-sufficient, and having the answers to things. The reality is that the independence is stressful and costly, most of my home-cooked meals still come from the home I actually grew up in, and I’m learning that I don’t have the answers to most things. I’ve been humbled by recognizing how little I know of the things that I couldn’t wait to “know” about as a child. Does that make sense? I mean, does that sentence make sense? Hopefully my sentiment makes sense.

Another great humbling thing about adulthood is that no ones cares. No one cares that I went to a highly-ranked public university. No one cares that I work a job that requires a degree from some highly-ranked public university, and that I earn a salary with benefits. No one cares that I live in a one bedroom apartment that I (praise the Lord) don’t have to share with any other humans. No. One. Cares.

On the flip side no one cares (or notices that much!) if I fail at something. No one cares if I happen to be really great (or think that I’m really great) at something. These days I’ve found myself jaded. I used to think of myself too highly, and now I struggle to recognize that I’m still smart, accomplished, and capable. I’m not where I want to be, but I am doing well. I’m not in the career that I want to retire from, but I do have a career that allows me the independence that I was looking forward to so much as a child/adolescent/young adult.

What I’m certain of present-day is that I don’t really know much of anything, and that I have so much left to learn about people, the world, etc. I’m making peace with this on the day-to-day. I’m learning to forgive myself for not having access to the people and experiences that could have taught me more lessons and truths earlier in my life. I’m grateful to have people in my life who are understanding of me and my quirks, and (sometimes) my denseness on the basic topics of life.

I’m also grateful for this tasty Mediterranean restaurant 2 minutes away from my apartment. On the flip side I’m also grateful that this zumba class is also 2 minutes away from my apartment on the days/weeks that I consume more calories than I should.

And on that note I’m reminded that I’m trying to drink a gallon of water a day in an effort to offset any junk that I don’t have the self-control not to eat on any given day. In case you were wondering 1 gallon = 16 cups = 128 fl. oz. That’s a lot of water, folks. So I’m going to refill this water bottle (again) and log these 3 additional cups into today’s water intake.

Cheers,

J.

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