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  • Alexandra Hillenbrand

day off/ a lot of things to say

I have been working long hours for the past week. It doesn't bother me to have to work, I love the job. I get to spend my days surrounded by insanely cute clothes, helping customers find outfits they feel good about themselves in, and I get to hang out with my lovely and kind coworkers. I have felt stress building up, however, because I haven't been able to spend any time doing my other necessary responsibilities. These include applying for full-time jobs, keeping my room orderly, and writing for the blog. The last one not being a responsibility per se, but being an activity that brings me joy. Besides overusing my private story and revenge night time procrastinating by watching Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, I have hardly had any free time.

Today is my first day off in a long while. A day where I have no prior social, familial, or work obligations. Now that I have all this free time to be productive, suddenly (but not shockingly) I don't want to have to do anything. I slept in. I took an hour to get dressed just to end up wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweater. How original! I took 15 minutes to park before I found a spot half a mile away from the coffee shop where I'm sitting right now. I'm drinking a black cold brew because I feel like I just woke up from hibernation. At the behest of my cardiovascular system of course.

I've been thinking a lot about my name today. People call me Alex, but that only happened because there was already an Ali on my field hockey team in high school. By the time school started, everyone knew me as Alex. I felt like I couldn't reintroduce myself as Ali without seeming like I was having an identity crisis. At some point, Alex became Al, an old man's version of my already unisex nickname. It never dawned on me that I could start introducing myself as Ali if I wanted to. But then, I never actually think about my name when people call me it. I've just noticed that I'm the sort of person that other people have felt comfortable changing their identity. I mean a name is a pretty huge part of someone's identity. Not a great feeling, to say the least.

The cycle of applying for jobs is lackluster. Whenever I look at the description of certain jobs, I never seem to actually want to apply to them. Then, the jobs that I am actually enthused by, have thousands of applications with tenfold more experience than I do. It's a completely draining experience. Every day, I receive at least five rejections from positions I've applied to. As much as I am aware that this is a normal experience, it's still entirely deterring.

I find that when I have free time all I want to do is work on my writing. A part of me believes that it is more productive for me than binge-applying to jobs. The other part of me knows that most people, my parents especially, wouldn't see it that way. They're probably right, I definitely need a form of financial stability so I can eventually move out. I get so bored, doing anything else though. My free time is so precious and unpredictable lately. I just want to use it doing something worthwhile.

I have been having crazy vivid dreams lately. A lot of them have been reliving pretty awful experiences. They have me waking up feeling incredibly distressed and unsure of what these dreams are trying to accomplish. Why do I need to dream about being cut from the lacrosse team in the 5th grade? Really brain, what purpose does that serve? It's been making it really tempting to just not go to sleep, which of course, has made me exhausted and unproductive. Why can't my vivid dreams be about meeting Taylor Swift?

If everything happens for a reason and every experience is a reason for growth, then dear god why am I not 100 feet tall? I'm still 5'4", stubby, and calculating everything I put into my body. My damn Irish potato famine anti-starvation genes. Evolve back, please! I have plenty of opportunities for nutrition, in fact, too much. I just want to be able to eat a pumpkin muffin in peace.

Apparently, I love to overshare. I'm sure that surprises absolutely no one. Life has actually been peaceful lately, except for the mental torture I put myself through. Even that is less frequent. My parents and I get along well - although they make me watch their soap operas with them. My sisters and I too. My dogs wake me up every morning and sleep in my bed with me. I had some particularly crunchy grapes the other day. I'm prolonging this blog post because when I publish it, I have to go back to writing cover letters. Whaw.

I'm wishing you good luck on your day(s) off whenever they may come. Productivity is a disease.



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