I Forgot How To Child...

Sometimes I catch myself thinking that I have grown up too fast.

Since I was fifteen, I have been occupied full time. From 15-17 I was in high school and working in a local supermarket. From 17-19 I was in University as a full time law student, and I also worked in the supermarket and the local pub 7 days a week. From here, I moved to the UK and was a door-to-door salesperson for 13 months working 75 hour weeks. I skipped from this into recruitment, to media sales, to Australia, to Canada... never really breaking this stream of constant employment.

I went on vacation to New York when I was 20. I holidayed in Australia when I was 22. Neither of these lasted more than ten days. Any other travel has been done on the weekends.

I catch myself thinking, from time to time, that I never really let myself be young. I never had a casual job or part time employment which wasn't accompanied by a full time occupation. I've never really been unemployed for longer than a few weeks (mainly by choice). Some would say I'm lucky, but as the close of another year approaches I have to sit back and wonder: when over-working is a necessity in your life, is it really very lucky at all?

Living in a student city like I do, and have done in the past, I am surrounded by University Students who fill their time with the following: One or two classes a week; 4-15 hours of work a week; and approx. 148 hours of professional drinking, sleeping, and netflix-watching. Many students do not even need to work at all.

Don't get me wrong. I am not trying to insinuate that students do not work hard. There are many who do. I am merely stating that in the world of student loans, scholarships, and over generous parents, it is increasingly difficult to actually spot a student who behaves like anything other than a 'student'. When does their week become a 50 hour work week? When do they learn to clean? And where the heck does all their money come from when they are a student?!?

I never took that time to be a student. I was in class or studying or working most of the time. Sometimes I managed to find time to sleep.

And you know what? I am jealous of that me because they still have more time than I do now.

Nowadays, I get really uneasy when someone asks me to go out and do something, because I have to think of an excuse other than "I'm tired". My muscles ache and I'm a little bit fat because I don't manage to make the time to go to the gym. Further to this, I have a bad back and have to pretty much schedule a stress-related illness once every month or so.

I am 23 years old. I work 50 hours a week, pay my bills early, and enjoy cleaning my house. I am really excited about Christmas, not because it's Christmas, but because I get close to two weeks off work. My New Years Resolution is to group up my annual leave into one nice long stretch so that I can catch up on 12 months of sleep deprivation.

Did I grow up too quickly? And when is it my turn to be irresponsible, blase, and relaxed?! If I took time off work now, I would never be able to get another job without facing mountains of questions about how and why I have been unemployed for longer than a few weeks. However, all I really want to do is get addicted to a video game and play it for a week straight; or binge watch an old TV show; or learn how to cook or speak another language... Sadly, I think I missed my chance. 

Oh well... only 40-something years to retirement...

- RH


I bitch about this and other things on my TWITTER

On Making The Bold Decisions

I just want to put this out there: I think that young people today have it tough. Of course: people in their mid twenties these days have access to more opportunity that ever before. I'm not trying to deny that. We have countless gadgets and systems to make our life easier, and there is more knowledge in the world that is more readily available to anybody who wants to receive it. However, I think with all of that there comes great social responsibility, which, with many young people, leads to greater social anxiety. It is a constant pressure of 'Am I good enough?' 'Do I wear the right clothes?' 'Am I the ideal weight?' 'Have I got enough friends?'

It's a minefield.

Depression rates are up. Suicide rates are up. And it doesn't stop with young people. Just last week, a friend told me that her partner's Uncle had just committed suicide. He was fifty four.

Let me just put this out there. I moved to another country to work a night shift. I didn't really know anybody, and had no idea how I was going to adapt to such a rapid change in lifestyle. I had lived way from home before, however I had anticipated that this would be a little different.

It is.

Along with obvious physical tolls on my body from working such hours, there have been mental and emotional strains that have come with the transition. Trying to assist other people in their transition hasn't helped either. There is a distinct domino affect at play when people aren't happy and it spreads like disease.

So where am I going with this?

The thing is: we are not bound to anywhere, or tied to anything. The greatest thing about the world today is that we are given the freedom to design our own fate. Whatever it is that you're not happy with, there are ways to change it. 

Every day, make one positive effort to better your life.

I recently quit smoking (again) which is a habit that has come in and out of my life for longer that I would be willing to admit. Along with quitting smoking, I also decided to cut back on alcohol. I removed processed foods from my diet, cancelled out majority of my dairy intake, and hired a personal trainer.

Point of this? I have learned that you can never be completely happy emotionally, spiritually, or mentally unless your insides are happy, too.

And I didn't do this all at once. I took small steps to better myself. Even the most miniscule effort towards positive action is the first step in improving your life. Cutting out the dirt, and the things that were making me feel physically uncomfortable, has had a great impact on the way I approach everything else in my life.

Of course, there are still frustrations. There are 'dog days' when it seems that nothing will go right.

I will repeat what I said. We have the power to design our own fate.

Don't waste it.

An Ode To Those Who Do Not Want Cake

"You cannot have your cake and eat it too"... 

According to very trustworthy sources, this old English proverb was initially coined to insinuate that one cannot (and should not) lust for more than they already have and deserve. Problematic, here, is the fact that what we want and deserve can be two very different things.

Nowadays, people tend to use this term to apply to the age old question: can anyone actually have it all?

One whimsical afternoon I had a very in depth conversation with an extremely wise friend. The friend was caught in some sort of transitional period in life and was in a consistent state of reminiscence: thinking about decisions which had been made in the past, and what could have been different. My friend wondered, "had I not chosen the path of marriage and children  would I have reached my artistic and creative climax by now?"

I was stuck for a response. The thought had crossed my mind.

Sheryl Sandberg is the COO of Facebook, and might I add, a very wise woman. She did an amazing speech for Ted Talks on why the world has few too many women leaders, which I believe can be applied perfectly to this statement. She notes that: "A recent study in the US showed that, of all married senior managers, only two thirds of the married men had children and only one third of the married women had children."

So what is the big play here?

Can anybody really have it all? And even if we don't want it all, who is to say that what we want is cake?

Anybody who knows me is aware of the fact that I like to travel. Anybody who has ever asked me will know that I have no real desire to plant roots anywhere, and start a life in one particular country. I do not tend to define myself by where I am, however I consistently struggle with the definitions forced upon me by where I choose to be, and how long I choose to be there.

At the moment, life is pretty good. I like my job, I have a good home life, and I have plenty of money that I know I will never want for anything. I have tasted professional success to the point that I will soon be relocated to another country to live and work. Career wise this is an amazing opportunity for me; however it means leaving friends and family who are doing nothing but digging their heels in deeper: buying property, getting married, having children... 

It makes me wonder whether, somewhere along the line, the decision will become an inevitable 50/50 split. Will I have to choose between having a great career and a wealth of travel opportunity; and having family?

I spoke about this with another friend. She noted, somewhat non-nonchalantly, that she had relocated to Australia to be with her husband. The choice was hard, but she had wanted a family.

Being faced with angry accusations of "why are you leaving me?" on countless occasions over many years, I cannot help but start to wonder, "why aren't you coming too?"

Within the space of a year, I have lived in three different countries, four different homes, and spent 125 hours mid-air.  I have been on countless dates, and dealt with weddings, pregnancies, engagements, break ups, and breakdowns (only some of which are my own). Through all of this, I have never sat in front of somebody who hasn't questioned why I do what I do. Perhaps this is simply one's way of demonstrating sadness at my departure, but I can't help but be slightly concerned with the fact that it is somehow OK to question a person's decisions to travel, yet it has never been OK to ask someone why they are having a baby, or why they are marrying the guy they have been with since puberty.

What if I want cheese and fruit instead of cake? Should I be subjected to months of tyrannical questions about the validity of fruit, or where fruit will get me when everyone else is tucking into their delicious New York Cheesecake?

Perhaps my maternal instinct will never actually kick in.

Maybe I will die alone with a box of old photographs and travel tickets, and pictures of my pet cats.

But perhaps I will be really fucking happy about it, and all the people that ate the cake will be damn fat and miserable.

-RH