I’m doing a bit better being back in Bucks County. I’m still a little scattered and there’s still a billion things to organize all over my floor, but I’m feeling more myself again. I decided to go to the Coffee Room and work on some Bloaty comics – of course, I forgot my tablet pen. Because I have no brain. Apparently.
I asked the girl at the counter for a “weird request;” a vanilla-lavender latte, a concoction Jenn got me hooked on a couple weeks ago. She said that wasn’t weird at all and we somehow got to talking about how people in Newtown compare to people in Philly. “‘Can I have an iced latte with foam on top?’ That’s weird. That’s how people here are.”
She told me she used to live in Philly but left her “good job” to pursue a business opportunity – which ended up failing, so she had to move back in with her parents and work at a coffee shop. She shrugged it off, but good lord. I can’t imagine giving up so much only to have it fall apart. She said it wasn’t so bad because now she has stories to tell people. Her attitude reminded me of 2013 Steph; I felt like my life was just one giant story that I wanted to tell people. I thought the meaning of life was to live as interestingly as possible. Then I got old, selfish, and boring.
The barista on bar heard me mention I went to Jefferson and asked if I liked it. I didn’t, I admitted, but I told her it was a great school. We ended up talking for a good 10 minutes about where she could apply for nursing and what kind of programs I’d recommend for her; I was shocked at how much I was able to help. She said she’d been going to our town’s community college for awhile and was tired of it. She felt old and wanted out, but didn’t know where to go. It was reassuring to know that there were people older than me who still didn’t know what they wanted out of their lives.
Most of my friends are still in school and they all seem like they’re in the right field. They all love what they do. And I guess I was there once, studying hard night and day, loving learning and feeling proud when I did well… Real life is so different, isn’t it? School doesn’t actually prep you for much. It’s the piece of paper that counts. A $33,000 piece of paper, in my case. Plus interest.
I work in fertility. Me, a 23 year-old devoid of any maternal instinct who would prefer it if we all stopped reproducing for 4 years to control the population. I think babies look like squishy old men. I have absolutely no idea how I ended up where I am – all I ever wanted to do was research microbes and teach. But we hardly ever get what we want, don’t we? Maybe it’s more about getting what we need, and maybe the universe works all that out for us. Not sure why the universe thinks I need to count sperm and prick 30 year-old women all day right now. But I guess that’s fine.
Once, while I was drawing a patient’s blood, she asked me suddenly, “Do you like your job?” I really didn’t know what to say. Yes? I do? In theory? It didn’t seem smart to tell someone you’re unsure about your job when you’ve got a needle in their vein. She was unhappy with hers; she was a lawyer who worked for a firm with a verbally abusive boss. I’ll never forget her. She was the only patient I had who was openly unhappy with her situation. No “I’m fine, how are you?” or “Work is work, we all just deal with it.” I loved her honesty and I empathized with her. I wish more people were that honest, cause it would make me feel way less alone.
I guess this just ended up being a long babble about women I’ve met who felt lost. Maybe we’re all lost – and if you aren’t, please message me and tell me your secret. Take care of yourselves and remember that you are in control of your life. And if you feel out of control, find someone to talk it out with. Every problem has a solution, and if it doesn’t, then it isn’t a problem.