#My500Words Challenge: Day 12

The Challenge

Lie (or rewrite history)

The 500 Words

Given the chance to lie, I think I’d rather take “rewrite history” instead. So I’m choosing to rewrite a very particular moment in the last year. I had applied for my dream job in the advising office in which I’d been working as a receptionist.

Eighty applicants, nine interviews, one spot.

It wasn’t me.

But let’s pretend for a minute that it was me. My life would be completely different. I think I would’ve been happier. Advising was my sole goal; I knew that I’d be great at it, and it was something that I really wanted to do. I would’ve spent my spring semester learning a new job, applying the leadership concepts from the course I was taking, and I don’t think I would’ve taken the U’s grad school rejection quite as hard. I know I would have been happier, at least for a little while.

I would have branched out onto different committees and been able to fully utilize my talents. I would have networked and learned just how the advising sector worked, and then I would have reapplied to get into the program that rejected me. This time I would have gotten in.

I never would have left the U. I would be comfortable, content, and more certain about where my life was going. I never would have met my ex, and I wouldn’t currently be dealing with this heartache. I’d be making more money (even though life isn’t only about making money), and I would be living out my dream.

I’m not living out my dream right now. I’m getting by on accepting the idea that someday the work I’m doing will play out. Apparently I need to work harder.

I do like where I’m at, don’t get me wrong. But I’m certainly not “in love” with it. I feel like it’s never really about what I want; it’s always about what is supposedly better for me.  How much say do I really get? I feel like I should get a lot more say than what it currently feels like. Even now, rewriting history, all I can feel is resentment. I didn’t get that job. I didn’t get into the program that was my first choice. I don’t get to be with the person I love.

When is it my turn?

I’m sure that this post is coming across as unbelievably selfish, ungrateful, and has an overall bratty tone. Maybe that is true. Who am I kidding, of course it is true. I feel like I work hard, yet I don’t feel the payoff of my efforts. People are constantly trying to help me see it, but I just don’t.

What is my problem?

I feel like these are the rantings of a self-absorbed busybody who has an inferiority complex. But I’m human. I’m not perfect. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life, or even where I’m supposedly heading.

I’m living in a Whitesnake song.

Here I go again on my own.