Just to recap (who doesn’t love a good recap? It’s like on TV shows, when the episode starts, “Previously on…” I live for that stuff since my memory sucks.), I’ve shared that Lily and I share a profession, we have the same favorite book and love of romantic comedies, and we have opposing views on fate.
We also share a certain personality trait: living in the past.
I’ll be the first to tell you I hate being an adult. Hate. I know I’m not alone in thinking this, so that’s comforting in a way. But it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make being an adult suck any less.
It’s a generational problem. I’m not blaming my parents by any means, but sometimes I feel like I don’t have the tools necessary to live. How’s that for an admission? Life is really freaking complicated, and sometimes I can’t handle it. Or, rather, I don’t know how to handle it, or I wasn’t taught how to handle it. I’d say my peers and I are used to having things done for us. Is that fair to say?
I’m not doing myself justice here. Of course I know how to live as an adult in the world. That doesn’t make it any less overwhelming though. Things like health insurance, doctor appointments, pulling weeds, trips to freaking Walmart. Actually, I like pulling weeds. It’s more of the idea that if I don’t do it, it’s not getting done. Man, I sound so whiny right now. But hopefully we can all agree life is hard. Generally speaking.
Back to my point. Because I hate being an adult so much, it makes the past that much more appealing. Lily has a habit of dwelling on the past, because to her, that’s when life was good. Life made sense then. I don’t think my life has ever really made sense, but I too spend way too much time in the past, mostly regretting. It’s no way to live. Trust me. You know when people ask if you’d go back and do it again? Hells yeah.
There’s a sense of comfort when you hang out in your memories. Lily and I both have one year of teaching experience in high school that we can’t seem to let go. I often wonder if I hadn’t been flicked out of high school and shipped to middle school like a bag of trash if I’d be where I am now. A former teacher. Would I still be at it? I just don’t know. I’ll never know. Lily experiences these thoughts too, wondering if she’d feel as lost if she still taught high school. The dream. It was though, you know? For both of us.
I’ve been meaning to discuss my thoughts on resigning from teaching. I was thinking of a two parter: what I miss and what I don’t. And although it’s been months now since I’ve been in a classroom, it feels like I just left. Stirring all those emotions around is probably not in my best interest; however, I know how comforting it is to read about other people who are going through similar struggles, as I read countless accounts from former teachers when I was making my decision to quit. I’d like to add my thoughts in the mix. We’ll see.
To wrap this up, sometimes the present is hard to accept, and the past represents a time when life made sense and was part of the plan as you always saw it. Why wouldn’t you want to live there?
Yeah, I know. You’re missing the present. And killing the future. But you know what? I still like it. So there.