“Holy s**t” was the only thing I could think as I was making small talk with the overly-expressive, overly-friendly, medical sales rep across the aisle on the plane scheduled to land at LAX in approximately 1 hour and 36 minutes (but really, who is counting?). “I am actually freaking doing this,” kept running laps through my mind.
What I can’t fail to mention are the events leading to these thoughts and this flight. I had spent nearly the past six months thinking about this day, and the days that would follow. But what prompted this journey was a disastrous year, full of disappointments, shattering ego blows, and deviation from any established inner-morality. If you’ve read any of my previous blog posts (which aren’t consistent- I’m sorry I’m the worst), I am a self-proclaimed, young woman discovering myself following a quarter-life crisis. 2017 was a crisis in itself, so maybe my life is just one big cluster. Ok, just kidding, I’m being dramatic, but really, last year I found myself falling in the same relationship traps I have in years prior, that in response, I have told myself “never again.”
Conveniently, two days before this trip, I received an unnecessary lengthy-at-nauseam message from the source of catastrophe himself. The message, in summary, said something along the lines of me being psychotic, and needing to erase the past year and get help. Excuse me sir, thanks for the advice, but check yourself first? For your incessant contact and need to bother me just when I was moving on from things could perhaps be the reason for the “psychotic” behavior – just sayin’.
The reason this failed relationship resonated so hard with me was due to it teetering- okay crossing values, that I have had instilled within me, well since, forever, and the manipulation that made abandon these. Not to mention that I was vulnerable, like super-freaking laying it all out vulnerable with this person, which I don’t do anymore.
Ugh, but enough giving this confused soul attention – 2017 also came with a large friendship dismantling. Although it was relatively anticlimactic, still, was wearing on the soul. Just getting to a point of realizing that in a “mutual” friendship, you give all the support and love and receiving nothing in return, sucks. Not saying that every relationship is and should be an equal in this sense, but getting nothing, well actually reprimanded in response to your dilemma, is not how friendship works. This situation just ended up being one of those “cut-your-loose-ends-for-growth” kind of situations. And surprise, surprise, you guessed it, Mr. catastrophe had a role in the deconstruction of this relationship.
Enough giving these two attention, I also saw my career plans fold quickly in 2017. Since I made the decision to leave medical school in early 2014, I had a plan. I am unfortunately a planner by nature. My plan was to go to nursing school, become a critical care nurse, and go back home to my undergraduate school to become a nurse anesthetist. I was on the fast track to complete this three year plan until October. It was the phone call that I didn’t get that sent me into a tizzy of “what will I do next.” Not only was I unprepared, but I was COMPLETELY blind sighted. In hindsight, I should have listened to my mom- “don’t apply to just one school, don’t put all of your eggs in one basket.” But that was my school, it was where I spent four years becoming an adult, the school I was almost guaranteed to be accepted into, complete with a 3.98999 GPA (damn you genetics lab) from that school, and a solid recommendation from a previous program board member. I didn’t know what happened, maybe I sounded like a complete bumbling idiot in my interview-possible. Maybe my interview outfit should have been more conservative instead of costing $300 at White House Black Market (thanks Ashley). Maybe because it was the one time in my life I was actually OVERLY confident with something. I don’t know what it was, what I did know was I was left with a pity “apply again next year” email, a severely tarnished ego, and questions of where my life would go next.
You know the episode of Gossip Girl (season 3, episode 22, I’m not obsessed or anything) when Blair invites Serena to Paris for the summer to mend their broken hearts, complete with the infamous line, “if you’re gonna be sad, you might as well be sad in Paris”… well this resonates with me. Sure southern California is no Paris, but it might be close. After the confusion and disappointment of last year, becoming a travel nurse felt like the right thing to do for me. How could I pass up the opportunity to travel the country, make more money, and spend a lot of time alone figuring myself out? I don’t want to say I don’t know who I am because that’s not true. What I will say about myself is that I’m constantly evolving. I am ecstatic to have this opportunity to make a living, while exploring the country, myself, and potentially figuring out what I want to do with my life (but let’s be real- does anyone ever know?).
Hopefully this post serves as a revival for me, my blog, and my twenty-something journey. My goal at the end of all of this in the midst of work, school, social, and health commitments is to share my favorite things with the world, and some of my not-so-favorite-things (like 2017). If even one person reads this and is inspired, then my work here is done. I’m greatly anticipating sharing my favorite jaunts, dreams, and pretty little things while exploring southern California (and possibly some terrible Bumble dates).