enough is enough; or, how may I service you?

I am employed. Commence excitement.

we're both so happy we could shit

It says a lot about my life that I reacted to the offer of part-time retail work as though the position came with unlimited travel, the Nobel Prize, and free sexual favors in the break room. It has none of those things. It does provide a name tag, a time clock, and the ever-present membership card that I must offer as the very thing to fill that inexplicable void in your life. In essence it's the exact same job I had at sixteen, just hocking a different sort of wares. Nothing flashy. Nothing fancy.

And I couldn't be happier.

I'm finally to the point where I care significantly less about being impressive, and goddamn it feels good. I can't proclaim to not care at all. That would be an exaggeration. But I'm 24, living in a garage, working part-time, and I can't help feeling like I'm getting somewhere special, in that "not all progress involves forward movement" sense.

You don't have to agree with me, obviously. But cards on the table? I feel like a majority of people in their 20's just fall in line with what we're told to do by the omniscient force that is society. You get a degree or two, start up that 401K, find love or something close enough, make spawn, buy a boat, hurry hurry run run run because if you don't check 'em all off by the time your number is up, you do not pass go and most certainly do not collect your 200 dollars.

And to that I say...meh.

Sure some of that is nice. Saving money is smart. Relationships are apparently swell, for some people anyway. However, I know these people. A lot of them, and you do too. The ones that are better off, insert finger-quotations, than me. And a majority of them just aren't that happy. They're happy enough, but that enough is what kills me the most. We've all settled for enough at one time or another, because of course it's better than nothing. Wanting more is scary. Change and uncertainty are scary. But nothing worth having comes easy. Fact.

My big risk is finally paying off, though I am savvy enough to know that's a matter of interpretation (see: broke, garage, retail). I realize that if tomorrow my graduating class was to publish a "Where are they now?!?" pamphlet, my little entry would not illicit gasps of envy and intrigue. And that's okay. I used to be far more judgmental, grossly so, but now? Do you take care of yourself and those who depend on you? Are you doing something that makes you feel fulfilled? Does it suddenly dawn on you at random times how great your life is? Then we're gravy. I don't care if that's happening in a tent or a townhouse, as long as it's good for you, it's good for me.

I guess as I meet more and more intriguing people in life, I'm realizing those who are happy, not enough, but truly happy, happy even when there's not a ton to be happy about....they're happy because they followed their hearts even when it wasn't impressive. When it didn't fit the preconceived mold. When they fucking winged it. And I respect that.

So here I am, occasionally working, always hoping, and never doubting. Things are good. It may not be impressive to others, but it's more than enough for me.


I was going to end on that, but I've been saving this nugget for a while and it seems an appropriate time to include it: (via)

Minimalists see life like this: either you can spend your money on stuff, or you can spend it on experiences. They have learned that stuff doesn’t bring lasting happiness or golden memories.

So they spend their money on living life. On seeing the world and building relationships with the people who live in it. At the end of your life, do you want a garage full of crap or a heart full of memories and friendships?

-J