Good things rarely come easy

Alright, listen up. So, for the past few months, it's been full-time work, social events galore, and marketing madness. Part-time turned forty hour work week at the same company. On top of that, throw in a personal life dumpster fire, and let me tell you, by 5 pm I was toast. Like, scrolling mindlessly on the sofa, questioning every life choice kind of toast. Weekends? Forget it. I had to physically drag myself out the door.

But two months in, things are slowly getting better. Sure, there are still full-on Netflix binges (which, FYI, are absolutely valid). This isn't your "five easy steps to conquering stress" handbook. It's more like a "why sometimes you gotta see it through" pep talk. See, there was a moment, a big, fat moment of "should I just quit?" But then I weighed things out. Turns out, more responsibility equals more stress - shocker, right? But the core of it? I actually liked my job and the people I worked with. So, I took a weekend away from the madness, and relaxed.

Here's the thing: quitting isn't a crime. Chronic stress, however, is a one-way ticket to burnout. My point? When life throws you curveballs, at work or elsewhere, take a step back. Weigh things out. Is this a temporary hurdle or a full-on roadblock? Newsflash: good stuff rarely comes easy. Even the dream job has its rough patches

That being said, listen to your gut. If the discomfort is like a weird, clingy ex that won't leave, then maybe it's time to make a change. You got this, boo. Just remember, a little perseverance goes a long way (with a generous side of self-care, ofc).

A sketch of the future

Expectations - they're like silent storytellers, weaving narratives in our minds about how things should unfold. Yet, do they solely lead us to disappointment, or is there more to their intricate role in our lives?

During a recent discussion with some friends, a lively debate arose on the subject. One of my friends said she felt let down that a recent movie had not met her expectations. This triggered a lively exchange of opposing views, each offering their own perspective on expectations and their impact.

The common belief that they are a one-way street to disappointment was a frequent thread running through the conversation. The idea was that the excitement for a certain outcome leaves us frustrated when reality deviates from it. Even if it turns out the way we had imagined, it doesn't trigger any feelings worth mentioning because we had already anticipated this outcome. Although I found the reasoning plausible, I disagreed with this view. I argued that expectations are not mere traps of disappointment; they are, in fact, our inner compasses guiding us through life’s twists and turns. However, it is not about completely erasing them, but understanding that they are fluid. Sure, unfulfilled hopes can dishearten us. Yet, having expectations doesn’t mean we’re indifferent when they come to realisation. It is not the prediction itself, but the way in which we chain ourselves to it that shapes our emotional reaction.

Our expectations cannot predict the future. They stem from our past experiences, painting a picture of what might come next, but never dictating it. They act as a sketch rather than a complete portrait, leaving space for reality to shape the remaining details. The beauty lies in the realization that our future is not predetermined; it is flexible, adaptable and open to surprises. What if we loosened our expectations and admired the beauty of the details we cannot foresee?

It’s not about discarding them; it’s about embracing their evolution. Sometimes, life doesn’t align with our anticipated script, but that doesn’t diminish its significance or value. Free yourself from rigid ideas of the future. Embrace the uncertainty, embrace the possibility that life might offer you something beyond your imagination. Isn't the magic of life precisely in its ability to amaze us?

It's time to redefine our relationship with expectations - not as limiting barriers, but as companions on our journey through life's unpredictable trajectory.

Alone but not lonely

Living in your own apartment is a major milestone in life. For many, it marks the first step towards independence and adulthood. It's a time to start fresh and build a home that truly reflects who you are.

For me, moving into my first apartment was an exciting but nerve-wracking experience. I had always lived at home, so the idea of living completely on my own was intimidating. However, as soon as I moved in, I realized the incredible sense of freedom and independence that came with it. I could decorate my space however I wanted, keep my own schedule, and spend my time as I pleased.

At first, I was worried about being alone too much. I had never spent much time by myself, and the idea of having no one to talk to or hang out with seemed daunting. But I soon realized that being alone didn't have to mean being lonely. In fact, it was a chance to learn to be comfortable in my own company and appreciate the peacefulness that came with it.

One of the biggest benefits of living alone was the opportunity to create my own routine. I could wake up when I wanted, cook my own meals, and spend my time pursuing my own interests. I found that I had much more time to focus on my hobbies and personal goals, without the distractions of other people around me. It was a chance to grow and learn more about myself.

Of course, there were challenges to living alone as well. Taking care of my own apartment and finances required more responsibility and discipline than I was used to. There were times when I felt overwhelmed or isolated, and it took some effort to stay connected with friends and family. But overall, the benefits of living alone far outweighed any difficulties.

Looking back on two years in my apartment, I realise how much I've grown and how much I've learned. I've developed a sense of independence and confidence that I didn't have before. I've learned how to be alone without feeling lonely, and how to make the most of my time and space. Moving into my own apartment was a big step, but it was also one of the best decisions I've ever made.