Back in the day (sometime last year), I was in the habit of publishing a blog post every single week. It wasn’t always pretty (remember “Life Lessons Shared by a Twice-Moved Young Adult”?), but I was creating content. This was a result of my goal to publish a blog post every week, and it was precisely the accountability I needed to push the boundaries of my creativity.
“…You have no sense of fashion…”
“I think that depends on…”
“No, no, that wasn’t a question.”
Last month found me relating to this iconic scene from The Devil Wears Prada on a personal level. I had flown to Tampa Bay, Florida for an interview to be the Executive Assistant to Amanda, the founder of a wildly successful fitness company. And even though there were no demeaning looks or Pellegrino bottles, the entire experience felt like something from a movie.
I figured the best way to finish out this year of goals would be by sharing a few statistics/reflections on what I’ve written this year.
“Hey, Dan? Calm it with the sports references.” I know, this is my third sports-referenced blog post title in the past few months, so I guess you could say I’m one overtly-masculine grunt away from being a full-blown athlete. But let’s save the conversation about my transition into a sports icon for another day so we can get on to the actual matters at hand.
My second year of college found me doing everything I could to be involved on campus. I wanted to have the quintessential college experience of rushing from activity to activity as a student, but the only “activities” I rushed to and from were ice cream and pop tarts. It wasn’t my best year. So after some soul-searching, I decided to apply to write for the school paper.
Today I want to share something I wrote and then proceeded to keep to myself for over four years. I wrote it at a time when I was vulnerable and searching, and I have been scared to share it because I knew that doing so would highlight the flaws I wish weren’t still so visible in my life. I would have probably continued keeping it to myself if it weren’t for the events of recent weeks, but before I dive into that story, here is what I wrote in July 2014:
My goal to “join a group” has hung over my head throughout the past year. This is primarily because I would go back and forth on which group to join. I initially considered joining a running club, but I decided against this after straining my knee and observing how unnecessarily energetic those in athletic clubs tend to be. So after the dream of joining a weekly running club ended, I began to set my sights on something much more sedentary. And that was when I decided to join a book club.
Of all the goals that I set in October 2017, the one to “Put an end to any grudges” has intimated me the most. This is because I tend to cling to grudges with the vice-like grip of a toddler clutching their favorite toy. Knowing this as I planned the upcoming year’s goals, I decided to attempt to abolish this practice.
Not many people work in a job like mine where they are encouraged to explore unrelated involvement opportunities during times that would typically be reserved for their full-time job. I was recently reminded of this when I worked with the Wave Program.
I seriously considered starting this with the lyrics to the 2009 song “When I Grow Up,” but I would like to believe that my readers are too highbrow to recognize that dated pop culture reference. The reason that I used a somewhat whimsical title is because I want to talk about the future. The one that I envisioned at different stages of life, and the “future” that I ended up living.