MIRANDA VALENTINE
COLUMNIST
When the new A and E editor Josh e-mailed and asked me to write a column for this week’s paper, I paused. At graduation, I had fully intended on deciding how I would answer that question by the end of the summer. I just didn’t realize that the end of summer would come so very quickly.
–
It’s not as though I didn’t adore every moment of my lucrative column writing experience (the endless money and fan letters were fabulous, really); it’s just that after I graduated in May I wasn’t sure how much I’d have to write about that would be of interest to my fellow USM’ers still in school. I mean, I was going to be out in the tedious “real world,” i.e., scrambling to get a job in the insanely tight local market, schlepping my resume around to each marketing firm in the area and starting a 401k -not what you’d call witty column-worthy experiences.
–
“But you don’t really write about school anyway,” my best friend, Ciera, noted. “Your column is called Life Style. You write about life style; what’s going to change?”
–
A lot, apparently. It started out slowly. Or rather, it seemed to be a slow progression because I was just too busy to notice that any semblance of a life, let alone one with style, was completely slipping away.
–
The above admission wasn’t fully realized by yours truly until said new editor requested a column. I have never had trouble coming up with column subjects; slightly embarrassing, albeit fabulously entertaining situations always seemed to befall me. And yet, as I sat in front of my laptop trying to think of something to write about to no avail, Ciera’s comment kept running ragged circles in my head: “You write about life style; what’s going to change?”
–
I got an amazing job at a marketing firm exactly 10 days after graduation. I was in heaven; insane hours, pressure, tons of client contact
-my type-A personality reveled in the challenge of both the work and proving myself. I was enjoying it all immensely. No matter that I was going days without checking my cell phone’s voice mail, weeks without checking my personal e mail account and I won’t tell you how long without an eyebrow wax. And I wasn’t just letting things slip, I was also taking things on. Habits. New, awful, scale tipping habits. I kept myself so busy that instead of taking a proper lunch by stretching my stiletto ensconced legs with a stroll down the cobble stoned streets of Portland, I was taking daily trips to the vending machine. I am not a vending machine girl. I am an organic Brazil nut girl. A Mango Italian soda girl. A vegan blueberry muffin from Wild Oats (I’m not vegan- they’re just wildly delicious) girl. And yet, there I was making daily voyages to the office vending machine for a Swedish fish fix; it was dreadful.
–
And as I thought back through the last three months, racking my brain for an interesting situation to tantalize you darling readers with, I realized that I had nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. I have quite literally participated in nothing of note in the last three months that was non-work related. I did see a movie, but I was alone, and it wasn’t very good. Mind you, I intended on partaking in interesting activities; I even convinced my friend Sarah to participate in a woman-only sailing excursion on a yacht. How fabulous would that be? But then I got busy and forgot entirely. And that’s how it has been with everything: the kundalini yoga classes I was going to sign up for, the ballroom dancing lessons I’ve wanted to take, the annual pass to Movies on Exchange that I was going to purchase in order to indulge in a weekly independent film on the cheap, Thursday “date night” with Emily, and a host of other to-do’s that I had meant to do but didn’t. And why? I certainly can’t blame it on work; my fabulous bosses have actually ordered me home on occasion, insisting that I step away from the computer. Matt, my eat-breathe-live-work fianc? has repeatedly suggested that I’ve been working too much, and my friends have sternly lectured me about “working to live, not living to work.” And at first, I laughed it off. I wanted to work this much; it was exciting, important, necessary. And now I have been forced to look around me and wonder: what has this lack of balance gotten me? I’m doing well at work, yes, but could I still be doing well and working a tad less? Probably. And what about my life, my friends, hobbies, interests, waistline -how could I have thought that sacrificing them would lead me to ultimate happiness?
Armed with my newfound quest for balance, I type before you as a changed woman. Honest. I solemnly swear to do my very best to balance work and life, and will even throw in a split of Veuve Clicquot now and again- only if you’ll do the same. Cheers.