You Better Recognize
Given that I am almost 30, and have checked off several of the traditional “accomplishments” of life – high school graduation, college graduation, marriage, etc. – I try to control my expectations of recognition these days. I go about my work, completing tasks without a “thanks” or “nice job”. I long for a break from the incessant need for acknowledgment and attention. I consider it yet another sign of achieving adulthood, like being able to get up early or change the oil in the car on time (neither of which I am able to do). To have some zen-like satisfaction in the face of ingratitude, the perspective to realize that life is work, so I should just get over myself and get busy – ah, that would be nice.
Of course, there are still days when I regress to the 2 year old version of myself and am thrilled with my own shit. And I want people to recognize. Did you see the eggs I made you honey? Were they the best eggs ever? Did you see I did the dishes? Look, I’m writing an email! And so on. And it is on these lonely days that I turn to a good friend, one who always provides support and appreciation. My dog Doodle.
Doodle gets excited the very moment I stir in bed when I wake up. Turning down the covers and sitting up is rewarded by leaps and licks from my furry friend. Morning pee? He’s right there, cheering me and waiting his turn. Sheer pandemonium breaks out once I start putting any clothes on. Doodle is blown away by this. He jumps in excitement nearly to my shoulders. While others expect me to do things like be on time, or return calls, or finish projects, Doodle is happy if I manage to make it out of bed. And frankly, so am I. After years of anxiety and pressure and perfectionism, I enjoy Doodle’s standards for celebration, and take my appreciation when I can get it.
on maturity
Lately, I’ve been drinking a lot of tea, and really enjoy the brands that have the quotes on the bags. I feel like it is another version of the fortune cookie, and I peer into these quotes to find their hidden meaning for me. Tonight’s quote is, “A sign of maturity is learning that the volume knob also goes to the left.” I, too, have long had my own signs of maturity. They are the abilities to: a) get up early, b) skip breakfast, c) skip lunch, and d) possibly a subset to c, work without thinking about what is for lunch. So far, this is the extent of my list. So far, I can do none of these things.
The notion of maturity is of interest to me lately as I have returned to school and thus am finding myself living like I did when I was 20. I cannot get up in the morning. I have a sense that I have a lot to do, but am not quite sure what or where to begin. I have few obligations in terms of time or place.
I wrestle with the question of why I can’t get out of bed every morning from somewhere around 9am to 11am, depending on when I get up. This is also the time that I make my breakfast, on most days an egg sandwich and definitely coffee. I don’t remember ever eating eggs as frequently as I do now, but there is a sense that I need the protein, fried in butter, for all the work I have to do. So I make my egg sandwich. I think it all started on yet another weekday morning when I was home and Good Morning America was on, and I learned that two eggs, whole wheat toast, and fruit is actually better for you than a bowl of granola and milk. I ignore the part about the egg being boiled, oh, and ignore the fruit, and feel validated in my breakfast choices. I picture Matt Lauer out there somewhere, cheering me on.
It is at this point that I get to work, and it is no sooner than I check my gmail, my work mail, and myspace that I begin to think of what’s really important for the day – lunch. It’s like I need the goal of red pepper soup from Trader Joe’s or a frozen veggie burger to really get motivated for homework. I have never been too busy to eat lunch. Ever. I have been too poor and I have been too lazy. But never have I been so engrossed in something that I just forgot. Lunch doesn’t just slip by me.
My point in all this is not to highlight my utter laziness/food obsession, though that might be worth exploring. My point is to ask: what does it mean to be grown up? What do my indicators mean? Will I ever spring out of bed early in the morning excited for the day’s work? Will I ever be so engaged that food isn’t the most primary topic on my mind? Is this really about maturity, or more about passion, liveliness, energy? And who are these weird automatons that are able to do all these things effortlessly? I’ll be looking for answers in tomorrow’s tea.
