Everything Happens for a Reason…Right?

by karinaaax03

Dear Jameson,

For some reason, this week seems to just keep dragging on and on. Maybe it’s my intense exhaustion or even more intense boredom, but I just can’t seem to get through the 8:30-5:30 grind without wanting to put my head down on my desk and just lay there motionless until someone tells me to go home. Extreme? Probably. Do I care? Nope.

I think I’m learning that my severe lack of mental stimulation (besides the copious amount of media I consume) is not only leading to less productivity, but also to a boredom that seems incurable. I feel like I’m back in my middle school days where I spent the summers walking around the house whining to my mother about how bored I was. Not cute, and definitely not fun.

My face around 3:30 p.m.

On the plus side, today I left my cube for a few minutes to enjoy the 70+ degree weather. Before this point in time, I’d strangely never been to New York in the spring. Let me tell you, it’s quite magical. Everything is bustling and it’s just the right temperature to walk around without sweating. Just as I stood outside this office pondering the beauty of a warm day in the city, I had to go back inside to sit in my cube. Severe bummer.

You know me, I’ve always loved the outdoors. For some reason growing up, and admittedly, through much of college, I had somehow fallen into the delusion that I could be perfectly content working at a desk job for the rest of my life. But the fact of the matter is, I end up feeling like a caged animal.

When you’re left to sit in a cube all day with an average of 30-40 minutes of human-to-human contact daily, shit can get a little weird in your mind (as you can probably tell from my endless text messages and constant ranting blog posts). I genuinely don’t know how people do it for years and years on end. Maybe I’ll find out, maybe I won’t. Who knows?

One thing I’ve been pondering in the concept that “everything happens for a reason.” It’s no secret that I believe wholly and deeply in this mantra, but I can’t quite get over the hump of being okay with not knowing what those reasons are. I, much like you, am forever trying to rationalize situations and figure out what went wrong (or in some cases, right, though that’s a bit easier to pat myself on that back for).

As you know, the thing I question very often is my decision to be here. Every morning when I walk into work I tell myself “you’re working in NYC immediately after graduating college, this is what you wanted, this was your goal.” And you know what, it was my goal. Ever since I was little there was a little bit of me wishing I’d end up in the city. But the funny thing is, now that I’m here I’m not quite sure it’s where I want to be.

I know there’s a lot of factors that contribute to this general discomfort with my current situation (although to be fair, I’m basically living the life and shouldn’t be complaining at all). But I feel like this is kind of my second shot at making this city my jam. I’m prone to giving out too many chances, so naturally after my summer was especially disappointing (tragically so) I decided to give it another (slightly different) go post-grad. Now to be clear, I’ve finally gotten to a place where I don’t in any way regret my decision, I’m just pondering what the reason for my being here is.

When you think about it literally, the reason is to help out the team and make some money. But being the writer/journalism major/skeptic that I am, why keep it simple by looking at the literal? I want to know what I’m learning, why life has put me here at this moment.

As with most things, however, I’m not going to understand why until much later, most likely. I’ll have to sit here scratching my head trying to force myself to learn a thing or two about life to make some sense out of this moment in time until I can look back and know what I learned.

TTFM (ta ta for now),

The Basic One

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