Another day, no dollar

 Another day peaks over the new blackout curtains, like a toddler straining on tiptoes to look over the edge of the dining room table. Eager. Curious. I woke up with the same feeling as the day before, and the day before that, and so on. A little lost, a lot overwhelmed, and insignificant. But not insignificant in the sense that I myself have no significance, but the kind that comes with feeling like there isn't any direction in my life. Last night I spent 6 hours watching the last three Twilight films all in a row. And felt like I had accomplished something massive.

 But back to this morning, it was 8:30am, and I had the same decision in front of me that presents itself every morning, should I get up? And, as usual, it takes me half an hour to decide that yes, I should. This usually falls to the fact that my dog needs to be let out. Our routine is painfully simple. I throw on outside clothes to take him out, we stumble back inside to make coffee, get dressed, make the bed, do the dishes, eat something and give him his anti-anxiety meds (I also turn on our heated blanket for when he gets sleepy.) By this time, my coffee has kicked in and I have to figure out what I should do next. Most days, I would spend the next two or so hours applying to jobs, sweating as I answer questions about who I am and why I would make a good employee for the 100th company I've sent my application to. This isn't hard because I know why I would make a good employee, it makes me nervous because I want so desperately to be good enough for my application to be picked. 

But today I knew I needed to get some paperwork done, some emails sent, and to spend some time studying for an interview I have coming up. Naturally, I took a bath before completing any of these tasks. I took a book that I had every intention of finally starting, but instead, I just thought about who I am and why I would be a good employee. And as I pondered these questions while getting dressed, slipping on a shirt that says "do more of what makes you happy" something new hit me. A feeling. A truth. I have come so far. Standing in my closet, in my apartment, that I share with my partner, whom I adore. The Breaking Dawn Part One soundtrack blared in my ears, and I walked slowly into my kitchen. And then something else happened. I thought about how proud I am of myself. That I chose to get up this morning. And that I had been choosing to get up every day. And that I have been paying my bills with the money I worked hard to save. And that I take care of a dog that I swear fills up my entire heart. And that I have been taking myself into account, and still actively choosing healthier decisions than what I used to make. And then I had a good cry. One of those healthy ones, that feels like its been sitting behind your eyes for a while, waiting for a reason to rush forward. 

Then, it was time to take out my dog again for his afternoon walk, and I quietly thanked him for having a reason to go outside every day. And as we walked, I looked up and around me, instead of at the ground, and acknowledged the sun for the beautiful day, and breathed in the gentle breeze as deeply as I could manage. We took our time and got back inside, and I sat down to write this. 

It feels very pressing to acknowledge the privilege I have been given to slow down a little. For so long, I promised myself and those around me that after getting my degree, I would launch myself into my career and be making money and doing everything in my power to be successful in every sense of the word. It has taken this time in between jobs to truly understand that my worth is not tied to my successes. I am worthy and enough just for waking up and choosing to exist another day. And for being me to the best of my abilities. And for learning more about who I am, not just why I would make a good employee, but why I make a good person, and partner, and sister, and daughter, and friend. Without this freedom from direction, I would not be as healed as I am right now in this moment. And that is something I will forever be grateful for.