Hi, my name is confused millennial and Lady Fate has been kicking my ass lately.
I am a big believer in Signs From The All-Knowing Creator Of The Universe (<— insert your chosen higher power here). Sometimes, when I am having problems making decisions (see: always), I attempt to cheat the system by telling myself that somehow there will be a sign from the Universe telling me which is The Right Way. Usually this is a load of bullshit and I just end up procrastinating with no direction until the very last second, but lately this style of decision-making has been on point. Or at least I’ve convinced myself it is because of the whole “confused millennial” thing.
Example: For the last few months, I have been toying with the idea of moving to California. I’m young, I’m unappealing– whoops, I mean– unattached, and could really land anywhere I please at this point. I went to visit family in Anaheim not too long ago and immediately fell in love with the Los Angeles area (and the idea of finding a hot hipster boyfriend), so it only makes sense that I try this out while I’m young. Plus, when I inevitably fail– because, let’s be real here, I do not have near the people skills required to move to a whole new state [again] (Edited later: Hi, 2017 Kelsey here. Just wanted to pop in and say that this gal in 2014 would move to Chicago with no job lined up about a year from writing this and will have great success, including finding a job in her dream career and opening an Etsy shop. Don’t give up hope, confused millennial!) — I will still be young enough that it will be socially acceptable to crawl back home to Mommy or Daddy.
And as I am telling myself this, I still keep finding excuses to not make this super scary, financially risky and life-changing theoretical move. However, Lady Fate keeps throwing signs my way: perfect job postings in Orange County, getting “California” as the place where I should live on Buzzfeed quizzes (AKA the internet bible), people actually telling me things like “You know where you should go? California!” or even being offered rent-free temporary housing in LA.
It’s like enough, enough already. I get it. I should probably move.
…Right? Maybe? I’m not sure. Can someone pass me a Xanax?
But I digress (and will continue to put that thought off for yet another day).
Now back to the current moment: this post on my new blog. As I sat down to write, I was at a loss for words. Though I have been told numerous times that I should blog because my Twitter is hil-ar-i-ous (humble brag, humble brag, humble brag), putting my thoughts that are greater than 140 characters out for others to read (or mock) is absolutely terrifying. Who am I to say anything that anyone would actually care to read? As far as I’m concerned, I have no authority in this world, no real voice, or important purpose. I’m merely a bored kid (adult?!) in Ohio.
I stumble across a post on the Internetz entitled “7 Ways You’re Making Blogging Harder Than It Has To Be“. It basically cited every single insecurity about this little writing experiment I’ve had since tweeting my blog URL yesterday. Right down to the “I’m afraid of the Negative Nancys.” Thanks, Lady Fate. Way to hit the nail on the head.
Which brings me to my long-winded conclusion: Fuck it. Fate sent the sign, I saw the sign (Who else just sang the song in their head? Just me? Oh.) and I shall listen. I will write. And maybe I will move to California (LOLOLOLOLOL). Or maybe I will go get another glass of wine, watch another episode of Orange is the New Black. Who knows?