Well…. it’s been four months. So long, in fact, that it took me nearly twenty minutes for me to figure out the right password/email combination to log on to WordPress. I pretty much missed the entire “intervention” part of the Intervention I was watching. Sacrifices, my friends.
But! In lieu of dwelling on all of the things that have happened in the four months (I feel like enough has happened to make it seem like much, much longer than four months)… I made a list of:
THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR
1. What time you go to sleep. The perfect amount of sleep for me before it’s time to wake up again is ten hours. This is a fact. I realize this is kind of a sloth-like amount for a person not in college anymore, but, hey… that’s neither here nor there. I currently have a job working in a middle school wherein I’m at school at the ungodly hour of 7am. Sometimes getting the fully maximized sleep time of ten hours requires going to sleep around 8pm.
Sometimes people act like they’re insulted when I say this kind of stuff. Or like they’re superior to me for waking up earlier or staying up later or being more productive or something else insinuating that it’s not cool to like sleep as much as I do. What of it? People who think people who sleep a lot are lazy are lame. If you manage to find the time in a day to sleep for ten restful hours you should be saluted. Bottom line. Embrace it, my fellow sloths.
2. Crying. I am of the opinion that crying is 100% okay, pretty much whenever and wherever it’s happening. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. Like sometimes you are just having. a. moment. I get that. I could be that girl. I’ve been that girl, openly sobbing at the movie theater. Not like, quietly and demurely tearing up into a tissue in my seat, but full-on losing it in the lobby of the movie theater, far after the amount of time appropriate for crying over Like Crazy had passed. Sometimes you just gotta let it out, man.
3. What the inside of your car looks like. Your car= your sanctuary= your rules. I mean, if it smells– do something about it, obviously. We’re adults here, and that’s sort of disgusting. Pretty much everything else is a-okay. If you want to keep three load’s worth of laundry in the trunk, hundreds of loose papers on the floor, and a light dusting of Cheetos powder on the steering wheel… that’s your business. I think the atmosphere of someone else’s car is actually a really intimate thing– a special, beautiful, sometimes-horrendously-messy, organic thing. Don’t apologize for that thing. It’s great.
4. Where you grew up. It’s not like any of us were there as an unborn fetus to help make the decision about where our parents should raise us. My mom once told me that they almost moved to Hawaii before my sister and I were born, so it’s pretty obvious I wasn’t a part of that decision in any way, shape, or form.
But, seriously, coming to a new place gives you the temptation to hide some of those not-so-great, not-so-impressive things about your past. I’m in an environment where people don’t know anything about me, and sometimes I’m tempted to downplay where I’m from– not just geographically from, but where I’m emotionally, economically, spiritually “from.” I’m trying not to do that, because it makes me feel inauthentic and weird.
5. Calling your mom. I know both my mom and my best friends are both really confused by this, as I am notorious for not calling my mom as often as I should. Pretty much every best friend I have has– at one point or another– received several, increasingly-frantic texts from my mother about my whereabouts.
I sometimes look down on those girls (you know the kind), who call their mom ten times a day, and I think, why the HELL can’t she just decide what to pack for vacation/what kind of cereal to buy/what she should do about her messy roommate/ by herself?! I feel a bizarre sense of self-satisfaction that I make hundreds of (questionable) choices every day without consulting my mom. But now that I’m 1800 miles away from Mom (Okay. YOU MOVED. WE GET IT, Kaitlyn. You can stop mentioning it every five seconds now), having a mom around to make well-informed, rational, innocuous decisions for me every day sounds pretty nice. So to all you daughters who have a running play-by-play of your day going on with your mom— it’s cool. (PS: Mom– it’s 8:20pm… just dumped drain cleaner in the bathtub. Cereal for dinner. Over & out)