Am I all grown up? Or have I run out of time?

Labor Day unofficially signifies the end of summer and the start of football, school and all things Fall. I was kind of curious about the actual history behind it so I looked it up as I usually enjoy a good bit of history. Essentially , the first official federally recognized Labor Day has to do with President Cleveland rushing a national holiday through congress out of fear of further conflict after the deaths of union workers at the hands of the US Military during the Pullman Strike in 1894. Yeah, doesn't exactly make me want to eat a hot dog and light a sparkler either.

But this day is always supposed to be a working man's holiday, a day off from your day-to-day grind to relax and unwind a bit. I wish I was able to do either. I have had this nagging, growing unrest related to all things "work" lately. It's much different than my previous position where I just got exhausted even thinking about the work week ahead of me because I knew with unwavering certainty that it would be filled with running around, long days, late nights and constant pressure. Believe me, I am glad I am not faced with that each week.

Now it's more of a look ahead into....nothing. Nothing to excite me or motivate me. Nothing to set my sights on and set a plan in place to reach the goal. Just an expanse of basic humdrum everdays, with the occasional stressful proposal or asshole lawyer thrown in for good measure. And every Sunday night I have this thought over and over and over in my head as I try to get to sleep: this is not what I wanted to be when I grow up.

I know that is a thought shared by lots of other people out there. We find ourselves in jobs and careers you may have never even imagined doing. Never went to school and studied for. Life happens and sometimes you just sort of fall into things; that's certainly what happened to me.

When I was really little, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up. This was obviously before I knew you had to be born or marry into royalty, there wasn't a whole training program and application process.


Then I went through a phase where I wanted to be a paleontologist. I wish I could say I was making that up, but it's the honest to god truth. I have an obscene amount of dinosaur knowledge because I read countless books on the subject when I was around 10 or 11. Like encyclopedia-sized books. I am sure at some point I realized that wasn't going to work because a lifetime of khaki-colored outfits and limited ability to accessorize would probably drive me crazy. **Side note, while the movie "The Land Before Time" had nothing to do with my dinosaur infatuation and desire to be a paleontologist, I love, love, love that movie and dare you to watch it and not get choked up. I could watch it today with all of its sub-par animation and still cry like a baby like I haven't already seen the movie 1,653 times**

Later in life -- like way later, towards the middle of junior year of college -- I thought I wanted to work in higher education for the rest of my life as a univeristy administrator. There was something special to me about being on a college campus that made me want to work on them for the rest of my life, the familial feel that you got just being on the grounds of one drew me in and really seduced me. Then I spent a year after graduation actually working in the field as I studied for and took my GREs and applied and interviewed at schools noted for their Higher Ed Admin programs. And actually working in it made me question my desire to go back to school to learn how to do it.

So late in the game, I did my own sort of hail mary pass by applying to one school for its Film program. I thought if they accepted me without any portfolio of work from undergrad, it was a sign that it was what I was supposed to do. They did, so I said yes. Don't worry, I question my own decision making abilities too and so does anyone who has ever met me. But those two years I spent studying and learning and creating were some of the most exciting times in my life. My track of focus was writing and I spent two years telling stories and creating characters. I worked harder than I ever had at it, but knew I was good at it. And I was happy.

And that wasn't really a surprise to me because I had been writing and telling stories ever since I was very little. As early as second grade I was winning awards for my short stories (soooo.....between this admission and the paleontologist bit, I have pretty much admitted to being a HUGE childhood nerd, huh?) I excelled in my English classes and in any project where a creative eye and imaginative thinking was needed. Taking tests has always made me want to break out in hives. Oral presentations and lengthy papers? Easy peasy.

Writing and essentially telling stories is what I have always loved best. And just because I haven't made my profession in it, doesn't mean I should ever give it up. So what am I getting at with this LOOOONG winded Labor Day posting?

I wanted to say thanks to those of you who come here from time to time and read my little stories and musings. I know there are some that know me from "real life" but there are some I have never met and that is beyond cool to me. I hope that first and foremost I always manage to get a smile or laugh out of you, but second I hope I can make you think about something or show you a viewpoint that may be different from your own. I also hope that if you enjoy it that you keep coming back and maybe tell a friend. Because I know of so many people (famous and your average joe) that have been able to do the elusive and take something they love doing and turn it into something bigger. And for once I will go out on a limb and say "Why not me?" Only reason it can't happen is if I don't try.

So my Labor Day resolution (New Year's is overrated anyways) is that I am here on this little blog to keep writing and to keep trying. Because I don't feel like I have gone and completely grown up yet. I think there might just be some time left to try and be something that I wanted to be.

Sorority House Time Machine

I recently went back to my college sorority house for the annual Senior Dinner. No, I am not one of those weird old ladies just hanging around the sorority house trying to relive my “glory days”. I was invited as a guest after I recently agreed to be an advisor to the chapter. I am sure this decision will provide me with loads of headaches and needless drama…but all of that makes for some of the best and funniest stories so I will give it a try for a year and see what happens.

So after the dinner is over and everyone is enjoying their cake and coffee, each of the girls stands up to say what their plans are for after graduation and a favorite sorority memory or what being in the sorority means to them. And I admit that I got a little choked up listening to these girls talk about meeting their best friends there and that they would all be in each others weddings someday and moving into apartments together after graduation and all of their rosy sounding hopes and dreams for the future.

I got choked up because I remember when it was me sitting there – all my plans and dreams for what life was going to be like after leaving college. And here I am, MANY years later, and not a lot of what I thought or even planned has come to be. Now, don’t get me wrong, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing at all. Not all of us want the same things at 32 that we thought we wanted at 22. I just thought my life would be a lot, well different. It’s nothing about having a more glamorous job, or being married vs. being single, or any sort of crazy timetable I had set up for myself about what age I wanted my first child by and my second child by and all of that. I was never one of those girls. I have always been pretty independent and never really worried or even thought about there being guys or babies in the picture to worry about.

But my 32 year old self was sitting there listening to all these 22 year olds full of hope and smiles and wide eyes. And I just felt kind of sad. I had kind of forgotten about a lot of the goals and hopes that my 22 year old self had because I am well past the point where I had to make some tough admissions that some of them were just not going to happen. I envied their ability to look at everything that would be possible for them because it was all there in front of them. A blank slate so to speak that they were going to go out and put their mark on. I found myself being a little envious, and wishing I had my own blank slate right now or had that same sense of excitement and anticipation about what was going to happen next.

I was lucky that I got to have a time in my life where I lived in a castle, with a bunch of great girls all around me where there was always someone to talk, commiserate with or go out with. Had dinner served every night at 5:15 and my biggest stress was probably finding a date or a dress for formal. The view from there was pretty damn good – anything and everything seemed possible. Now I worry about bills to be paid and finding enough hours in the day to get all my work done. Sometimes dinner doesn’t happen until 9 at night and it’s a bowl of cereal because I am too tired to cook a real dinner. I miss my friends and having people around me to talk to and spend time with because now we are all separated – by miles or jobs or families or children. I wish I knew then how good I had it. Because some days, I would give anything to be back there.
So I need to do something to find my inner 22 year old. I don’t know what that is exactly. I’m hoping it doesn’t involve Jagermeister or bad decision making. But seriously there should be a way to still have some semblance of that “anything is possible” attitude. That excitement and anxiousness about turning the page to find out what happens next. I need to find it soon so my older self doesn’t look back at me now and feel any shred of disappointment.

I have hit a new mark of growing up. I now have an assistant. This is beyond words weird -- I am sure a lot of that has to do with the "do it all yourself and never ask for help" mentality of my last job. But there is another layer to it that I didn't fully realize until the other night. I was at the holiday party of my new firm. The veritable all star game for boozing and schoomzing -- and I didn't feel like doing either. I had more in common and more to talk about with the assistants and the secretaries. Probably because I pay more attention to reality tv than I do the stock market. Oopsies. But I was expected to be out having chit chat with the partners. One guy in particular had a little too much to drink and basically verbalized everything I fear in my job "Megan, I am supposed to take your business advice seriously but you look 25 years old." Well, first off you are my new favorite because you think I am 25. Secondly, yeah I pretty much get that you would be wary of taking my business advice. I have no idea how I have ended up where I am. Don't get me wrong -- I am good at what I do -- but I didn't take some linear path to get here. I pretty much fell into my current line of work and I don't have ivy league degrees or a shiny MBA to stand on (but mad props to my Masters degree haha)

I had lunch with some college friends recently where we ended up discussing how old we feel, more or less. And while those gathered around that lunch table varied in life stages from new mother to pregnant to single and were on various accomplished career paths....we all still thought of ourselves mentally as about 25 years old. I agreed. I don't often feel older -- but I know that I am. I don't want to have to worry about cholesterol or getting enough calcium. I'd still rather get my news from the E! Channel and not CNN. Maybe I haven't had some of those life markers that might automatically make one "act older"....but I guess I need to catch up soon. Or at least pretend to act older. Sadly I have to go talk about billable hours and not Snookie getting punched on "Jersey Shore"

I'd prefer not to graduate to the big kids table just yet....but I think I don't have a choice.