I hear people say, You can’t have it all like all. The. Time. But they are wrong. I know a person who has it all – me.
I have a job that keeps me busy the bigger part of the day. I have this urge to quit whenever I feel overwhelmed by the people in the office and the pressure of punctuality at work.
Whenever I am not at work, I think about what would it be if I stopped working and I realize that my life would be empty if I didn’t have the career I have now because I like being on the move; I like being active.
I have social anxiety kicking in whenever I am grocery shopping. I want to be fast and efficient, always aware that there are people behind me waiting. I feel so foolishly intimidated when I cannot pick up the coins from the counter with my long, shiny, red nails, so I start sweating. The cashier is so nice and smiles kindly with patience, while all I see is a bunch of red flags around me.
I have kindness towards strangers and eagerness to support small businesses. I always buy from local stores because I understand the struggle of that rat race.
I have brutal honesty, and I always speak my mind because I don’t know otherwise. I have people who irreparably hate me because I’m like that, and I have people that love me because of it.
I have the strength to run a marathon and go 3 days without ice cream.
I have friends that drink their coffee with me during weekdays and their wine during weekends. I have friends I dance to jazz and blues with, and friends that listen to my endless blubbering without complaining.
I have insecurities about my body, and my nose, and I have insecurities about my future.
I have an outspoken fierceness to confront injustice, and I have a soft spot for my sister.
I have two older parents who taught me how to cook, how to withstand the darkness of this world, and how to bite the bullet when I need to.
I have rigid habits and die-hard sense of morality. Ethics.
I have the strength to fight and I have the urge to go on a shopping spree when I am angry or mad.
I have frequent mood swings and fear of bugs and snails. Snails? What? It’s weird, I know, but I can’t help it.
I have the passion and the zeal for writing and pouring my heart out on a piece of paper, and I have a library full of books – some I’ve read twice, others I haven’t even touched.
I have affection for birds and zillion cringes in a second when people throw something and litter nature and the streets.
I have a fear of abandonment and fear of giving birth. I have a fear of high-heels because I think I can twist my ankle if I wear them when it’s dark outside.
I have childhood playfulness and melancholic happiness.
Wait, no, I am sorry. I got carried away. I could go on, but did I get the question right?