Ciao for Now...

My ex- boyfriend, Big Ben.
We couldn't survive the distance

I know there have been times when I go M.I.A. from posting, but this time, it's for a reason! If you've read two of my most recent posts, you'll know that I will be travelling to London and then to Rome over the next two weeks. Try not to miss me too much -- I will share tales of my adventures and, most likely, misadventures upon my return! Cheers!

 

Returning to Rome... three years later...

TMI: How Much is Too Much?

Thanks for letting me know.
http://tbonecafe.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/social-media-explained.jpg

When I first started my blog, it was meant to document my seemingly hopeless pursuit in job hunting as a post-grad and the subsequent transition from college life to, sigh, real life. While unemployed, my most controversial posts consisted of what type of cookies I baked that day and my success at avoiding kitchen fires. However, with each post, I often faced the question of deciding what to share from my life. What would prove most post-worthy or relatable? What did the readers want? After all, I only had so much from my personal life that was even anecdotal enough to warrant publishing on my blog.

Once caught in the middle of my job search, though, and then later, when finding an actual job, I realized that I couldn't impetuously or haphazardly post to my blog like I did before. There were certain details now that I was working (and continue to work) that just weren't suitable for posting online -- not because they were inappropriate, but because they compromised professionalism. Despite wanting to give you, my readers, an authentic view into my life with all of its details (for better or worse), disclosing certain aspects about what was currently going on in my life (i.e. how things were going with my employer or even potential future plans with a different employer) could put me in a risky position.

All of this led me to thinking about sharing information in an era where over-sharing (much like a certain degree of narcissism) seems to be the norm. Certainly, giving readers access to every minutiae of your life establishes authenticity, insight and a connection -- yet, there needs to be a line drawn somewhere, right? How can you maintain some semblance of privacy in 2013, when all you need is a little strategic sleuthing to pull up pages and pages of information on a particular person?

Obviously by writing a blog I am opening up parts of my life for public consumption. At the same time, though, I can't open up every single part of my life for the taking. If I were to post about resuming my job search while currently at my job, well, that is just a bad idea. Certain things need to be kept under wraps for the simple reason that sharing these things could risk not only current opportunities, but future opportunities. I constantly read tweets, status updates and view Instagrams that sometimes border on too much. Yeah, there are the annoying posts that reveal intimate family moments, egregious and unfounded personal opinions and overall, questionable taste in judgement. I've seen tweets from funerals, Instagrams of half-naked bodies, and Facebook status updates letting me know of people's every single action from sunrise to sundown. For the most part, these things are harmless, albeit sorta tacky. However, these sorts of posts are not the ones that concern me the most . What about the posts where you rant about your boss? Or the millions of tweets you post while you're in the middle of an important meeting? Or an Instagram of you celebrating getting that new job -- when you already have a job?

Just because we can post with the click of the button doesn't mean we always should. Your Twitter/Facebook/Instagram needs to reflect some process of thoughtful curating. Yes, I understand this suggests a bit of manipulation: only showing things that we are permitting the public to see. But what exactly is wrong with that? Aren't we all entitled to a bit of privacy? And even more so, aren't we all entitled to you keeping things private from us? (There are certain things I don't need to know, folks.) I think we could all benefit from exercising a bit more discretion.

Again, this is not to say that we need to lose that element of authenticity from our lives and from our social media platforms, but I think that there is a reason "TMI" has become so integrated into our everyday vernacular. With crotch-shots being a regular facet in tabloids these days, it's clear that our society has blurred the line between what should be considered private and public. Social media platforms have only confounded this issue even more, as each facet encourages constant use and egotism. Maybe people do want to know more rather than less, but I think that ultimately, they want authenticity. They want to know that the person behind the posts is real and they're being thoughtful -- that what we choose to share with each other is a result of wanting to make genuine connections. The moments/opinions we choose to share online are a reflection of ourselves online, so I guess my last question is, what do we want our online-selves to say about our offline-selves?

As an avid-Tweeter (perhaps, even over-Tweeter), I know that a little self-reflection on the matter will probably benefit myself, future opportunities and most definitely, the people who are reading my tweets. Sorry guys!

Why Hello, Old Friend: Thoughts on Returning Abroad

Oh, hey girl.
(http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/queen-e-pop-art-terry-collett.jpg)

I've had a case of the Fridays all day (is that a thing?) and all I've been able to do is look wistfully towards the weekend and my upcoming vacation in order to get me through the final afternoon slump. Freedom is on the horizon -- in the form of Saturday, Sunday and a ten-day getaway across the pond.

As I lose myself in daydreams, I realize that in returning to London and Rome (but especially, London) I will be reuniting with old stomping grounds. I visited Rome briefly for a few days during a college trip to Italy, but I spent an entire summer in London. How strange that a foreign city could seem so familiar, while remaining so geographically distant from my everyday life. I'm not sure how I'll react to landing back in Heathrow, riding the Tube and meandering through the same streets I explored just under two years ago. Will the city welcome me back or dismiss me as a once-tourist and now-stranger?

It's different from other vacations I've had where I've returned to the same place. Every year, my family skips out of suburbia and plops next to the beach in Cape Cod -- but that is a two-hour drive from home, littered with Boston-pride and New England's creature comforts. I have friends who live on Cape Cod and I'm not relegated to a once-a-year visit to Massachusetts' hook, or even once-every-so-many-years visit. London, on the other-hand, is obviously not so easily accessible from this side of the Atlantic. With a six to seven hour flight separating me from the the US's former frenemy (circa 1776), I wonder if I will seamlessly re-acquaint to the city or be overwhelmed by a surprising exoticism of it all. Is it just like riding a bike? Will I hop back on that metaphorical Schwinn only to find that I need training wheels? Or will I be able to pedal around the city, finely attuned to my place on the left side of the road?

My summer in London left me with an indelible affection and attachment to the city. Whenever I click through Facebook photos or peruse my old travel blog, the nostalgia inevitably resurfaces and I think back to everything I did there -- both the trivial and the anecdote-worthy. I'm obviously curious to be back there and perhaps even re-trace some of my old steps, to see if this nostalgia returns full-force and if I remember the same sights and smells. Some of my favorite memories are the least ostentatious or illustrious. I remember walking to Kings Cross in the morning to take the tube to work and just feeling like I was a part of it -- as though, I was one sort of minute piece of energy contributing to the overall life of the city. The air was fresh and crisp, the streets still wet from the morning rain, and yet, amid the serenity of climate, the people's vibrancy propelled me forward, invigorating me. I always felt a rush whenever I was diving into a different part of the city -- whether it was getting lost and then surprisingly stumbling upon my desired location or when I simply took the time to take in the people as I walked through the streets. I suppose this sort of sensation is not purely indicative of my experience of London, but of travel, in general, but because I had these inaugural feelings of developing familiarity with London, I now think of it as an old friend associated with a summer filled with memories.

I'm not quite sure what to expect, really. I'm hoping to fit in time to see some familiar faces, but also to  venture to corners of the city that were left unexplored while I was there.I'm sure this trip will not signify any sort of end to my love affair with the city. Instead, I'm almost certain it will rekindle it, as I feel as though once I am, again, caught up in London's energy, I will feel the overwhelming urge to ditch my flight, stay put, and peddle my way into some sort of Notting Hill apartment. 

If you don't hear from me in April, it's probably because I'm still there...

Vacation All I Ever Wanted

Because everyone loves the Go-Go's...

Hard to believe, but April will mark my one-year anniversary at my current job. Last March, I was sitting around my house, moping in boredom still wearing my post-workout clothes, talking to my dog and voluntarily vacuuming the house. Since then, I've been facing a tough commute, the much-more-difficult-than-it-looks-task of walking upstairs in pencil skirts and going to bed early. I could actually be qualified as a real grown-up -- that is, if you wish to disregard the fact that my bedroom is down the hallway from my parents.

In reflecting on the past year of 9-to-5 fun, early mornings and eight hours per day with my computer screen, I realized something that should have already hit me: my life is now (and potentially forever) devoid of vacations. Okay, yes, I know -- DRAMATIC. But hear me out?

Many jobs offer vacation time to employees or paid-time-off of some sort, but that's not really what I'm talking about. When is the next time I'm going to be able to take a three month hiatus in the summer, only to return to my beloved seat come September? Sure, that happens K-12, and then in college, but then what? Where do my vacations go!? Will I ever be able to take that much time off ever again? Winter break, spring break and summer break become nothing but fond, distant memories of a time where wrinkles were non-existent, coffee was mainly used to assist in all-nighters rather than to survive workdays and you could still get a student discount at J.Crew.

Once you participate in the daily grind of office life, ditching study carrels for cubicles, the most you can hope for is a flexible company policy that gives you a generous amount of vacation time. Even then, don't count on summer vacation lasting from Memorial Day until after Labor Day. Cue hand to forehead: doh! 

I realize that this is something that should have occurred to me last spring, after graduating early and working throughout the summer whereas my recently graduated friends had the summer off before joining me in the dire workforce that fall; however, the novelty of working hadn't yet worn off and my new routine was still foreign enough to throw me off of my game. Now, as I approach that one-year-mark of working full time, I've noticed that it has all begun to sort of wear on me. The winter has been terrible, it's always cold and I am wavering between being completely burnt-out and just chronic agitation.

On the horizon, though, is that old friend: vacation time. Just as I was beginning to feel defeated by the perils of my wintry suffering, I looked at my calendar and saw that I had approximately eleven days off from work (seven being business days.) Finally! My reprieve! This will be the longest amount of time away from my desk (and any sort of desk for that matter) since I started working  part-time last March. Even though I'm not going somewhere tropical, just the thought of leaving unpredictable and unseasonably cold New England for a week and a half is enough to light a fire within me. The transition from college to working full-time has been a difficult one, and even moreso when you factor in that real life does not give you a break -- any breaks. I haven't had my usual month off in the winter to collect myself and re-charge, nor have I had three consecutive months to sleep in, stay out late and enjoy the sunshine. Yes, I realize I may sound a bit whiny -- but after 16-17 years of being subject to a year filled with ample breaks and time-off, it can be jarring and disconcerting not just to your routine, but to your overall being. It doesn't help that US companies aren't exactly known for their generosity when it comes to paid-time-off. I am stuck at my cubicle for eight hours a day, five days a week and then trapped in my car for at least another fifteen hours a week -- who has two thumbs and is in dire need of a break? THIS GIRL!

Suffice to say, I am extremely excited for my 11-day excursion. I definitely need time to be away from my usual routine to re-charge my batteries and take on springtime (if it ever comes to Boston). Hopefully, I will return in April feeling inspired (and motivated to write lots of new posts!) 

I Was an English Major

Ted, you kill me.

from youtube

A funny thing happened last week: someone engaged me in a conversation about my English degree and literature. Yeah, you heard me. I talked about literature outside of my undergrad years and yes, I have my degree in English. I am not ashamed, despite however much society may try to ostracize those who choose to pursue a degree in the liberal arts as opposed to one with a natural progression towards specific career choices. I understand where the disapproval and exclusion stems from -- most people just don't get it. My choice in major was almost always met with a look of concern and then the subsequent reaction: "So you want to be a teacher then?" No. I do not want to be a teacher. I have the utmost respect for all of my teachers (especially my English teachers), but actually, choosing to pursue my undergraduate degree in English does not mean that my only option upon graduation is to teach. Just because you have an English degree and then become a teacher does not mean that this progression of events necessarily implies causality.

Since graduating, I have obviously chosen not to pursue the path that so many think is oft taken by others with my degree. And while I haven't doubted my decision not to pursue a teaching career, I cannot say that I haven't doubted my decision to pursue my undergraduate degree in English. *GASP* I know, I know, I really am not supposed to admit that on behalf of my fellow literature-lovers and bibliophiles -- after all, we already have to defend our chosen path tooth-and-nail in order to prove its legitimacy as a field of study (and we certainly have been for years and still are.) The last thing the English degree needs is another adversary, especially one with insider knowledge. But I know I'm not alone in my doubt. However, when I say I'm not alone, I mean that I know other students of all types of degrees have second-guessed the academic route they travelled in those fun, albeit confusing, four years.

I obviously don't use my skills of literary analysis and comprehension on a regular basis (and certainly not in my current job), so from time to time, I wonder if I would have benefitted from a different degree. Should I have chosen a field of study catered to a specific profession? One that would most certainly guarantee a life of the big bucks (hello, engineering!)? Did I have it all wrong in choosing something that I most definitely love to learn about and even more so, am passionate about? Who is the fool here? Please don't say it's me!

But when I found myself enveloped in a conversation regarding my studies as an English major and then my thoughts on literature (works of literature, how to define literature, what should be considered canonical, different ways to analyze texts, literature as a field of study, etc), I realized that, even over a year out of the classroom, my love for my English degree remained steady and true. I was revitalized! I was impassioned! I was talking about literature!

I realized that even though I haven't been able to utilize and optimize the skills I developed and strengthened over the years as an English major, they are still tucked away in the file-cabinets of my mind, anxiously anticipating and waiting for the moment they are able to be brushed off and opened up again. This doesn't mean that my skills are never put to use. My studies in English literature have given me a communicative edge: I efficiently, clearly and effectively can communicate a message, something that is important in all facets of business and life. I understand the power of word choice and how to manipulate language in a way that can get you what you want and say what you want. I find that the ability to speak well and write well are too often undervalued, and yet, I was able to learn those skills as an English major. I still love to discuss literature -- dissecting text, analyzing potential meaning, carefully looking at diction, metaphors, and any other literary device you want to throw in there. I wish I was able to incorporate this love into my everyday life more often, aside from the occasional discussion of a book I happen to be reading or on the off-chance I am able to convince someone to get down and dirty with some literary analysis.

When choosing my major, I went with my gut and what inspired me to my core. I fully realize, especially now that I am in the workforce, that my passion may not necessarily guarantee a life of financial prosperity, but I think I am okay with that.If happiness is the goal, then I don't know if pursuing a degree in something that I didn't truly love for the sake of a big paycheck would be able to help me achieve that goal. It is a small sacrifice in the name of preserving my soul.

Shout-out to my allies in literary pride!

Is Blogging Just a Form of Narcissism?

How appropriate...
from someecards.com

Originally, I was going to blog about "the art of listening" -- how it seems as though I have a tendency to talk and talk and talk and forget that other people's stories might be more important and more helpful than simply telling my own. This is not to say that I am a terrible listener, but I will admit that my love for talking sometimes means that I can dominate a conversation. As I pondered my chatterbox tendencies and how I could share some insight into the world of a loquacious lady, I realized that my blog is a way of talking to people without necessarily giving them equal opportunity to participate in the conversation. Sure, you can comment on a post, but that is in response to my (severely) lengthy posts, rants and ramblings, which are the focal points of that conversation.

So that led me to this post's eponymous question: is blogging just a form of narcissism? Using my own blog as an example, it certainly seems that blogging can be a bit self-indulgent. Here is a medium through which I can share all of my personal anecdotes, insights and ideas -- however verbose or trivial those anecdotes, insights and ideas may be. I'm the primary story-teller and the only voice that ever appears on this blog -- a blog that began out of selfish necessity, a way to sort of demand engagement with the online community, where there may not have even been a demand for that type of engagement.

However regularly, I post and talk about myself and things I think are worthy of talking about and just hope that people out there will read my personal musings with piqued curiosity and inflated interest. Is this realistic? Does my blog warrant that sort of following or worth? Am I just another delusional blogger who thinks that her posts are important or make some sort of impact on society or (shudder) better than they actually are? Perhaps. But I wonder if, not to defer blame, this era of immediacy and social media are encouraging this sort of narcissism. 

After all, how many people do you know without a Facebook, Twitter or Instagram account? All of these mediums applaud egotism, in a way. I'd be lying if I said that receiving multiple re-Tweets or a certain number of "likes" on a Facebook picture elicited nothing more than apathetic acknowledgement on my part. Somehow, self-worth becomes predicated on followers, likes and re-pins. We are reaffirmed in purpose and self-importance by our peers' approval via online activity. A blog is just another extension of that, granting the illusion that we have an audience and that audience wants to hear about our every personal experience -- whether it is a recipe we just tried, an outfit we wore today or our thoughts on blogging as a form of narcissism (ha -- see what I did there).

It seems as though some of it is a bit necessary, though. In a time of economic uncertainty, we need to be our own biggest cheerleader in order to get a job. I can't think of a time where someone won a competition by advocating for their opponent and praising their skills over their own. Our tweets, Facebook profile, instagrams, etc. have become a way to market ourselves, and in order to market ourselves effectively and competitively, we inevitably fall prey to self-aggrandizement. Sure, you could initially join Facebook or Twitter to keep in touch with friends and family, but do you need to tweet about your sandwich or post photos of your cat's birthday party in order to do that? Or are you just assuming that your followers want to see these things? That you have followers that care? Only later to be reaffirmed that you should continue to post photos of your cat's celebrations because it keeps receiving likes from your multitude of followers. It seems as though one could get tied up in the delusion that these things are more important than they might actually be (although cat birthdays are important, people).

I digress (a little bit). Blogging could be considered just another forum for self-indulgent activity and re-affirmation. I sit down at my computer, write about something I think is important (whether it is a personal anecdote, an opinion/comment on society, etc) and post it with the assumption that it is significant enough to garner a following or audience. Isn't that narcissism at its finest? Assuming that my life and thoughts warrant sharing and online postings; that naturally people would be interested. Of course, I don't mean to sound so pessimistic -- after all, blogging is a great way to bring communities of people together and spread knowledge and stories. But at the same time, I can't help but play devil's advocate here. There needs to be a bit of self-awareness, especially on my part as a self-proclaimed "Chatty Cathy," as far as trying to facilitate a larger dialogue with my readers is concerned. Certainly, I could talk about myself for hours (and many posts) on end, but does that over-interest in myself simply stop at me? Is there a demand for what I'm saying? Or am I inflating my importance?

I hope that this will encourage you, my readers (all three of you?), to participate in a conversation with me. I started this blog as a way to share my own experiences, yes, but I also want to engage with others who have had similar experiences or have their own anecdotes to share that might shed some insight onto other facets of post-grad life (or just life in general, you know). I will shut up now.

Comment away! Let's all talk.

Finding Time for Friends... Really

At this point, you might be tired of me whining about never having enough time for anything. But people! Time is a precious thing -- there is never enough of it. Never enough of it, I tell you!

With that being said, I think one of the most difficult things about the transition from student to post-grad is finding time to maintain friendships. After all, there are big ships and small ships, but isn't the best ship of all friendship?

http://cheezburger.com/6570040576

With work schedules demanding at least 40 hours a week and friends living further than just across the quad, you actually have to put in time and effort in order to see people. Yes, effort. This means doing more than walking next door, knocking on your best friend's door and inviting them to walk with you 400 feet to serve yourself some mediocre pizza at that overly-expensive-dining hall, where you'll most likely bump into more friends, by accident, just because they had a hankering for that same mediocre pizza too.

Once we have all been forced out of the college bubble, the distance between us and our friends severely widens. What was once a hop, skip and a jump away now becomes an almost overwhelming chasm, filled with indeterminable despair and loneliness. Forget your cell phone in your dorm room? That's okay. You will most likely have class with a friend, pass a friend in the hallway, see someone at dinner or run into them at a Student Government meeting. There, you'll be able to catch up on all of the happenings in his/her life: how that upcoming test is going to be a killer, how his/her date went last night, what his/her thoughts are on Anne Hathaway's underwhelming Oscars dress (now you know my thoughts on that) and of course, how they enjoyed that mediocre pizza at the dining hall. There you go. You have checked in with your friend, spent time with said friend and have done what is needed to preserve that loving and special bond.

It's not like that anymore. Sure, technology has made it so that doing the quick check-in is easy: send a text or poke 'em on Facebook. Nothing says, "Hey, I miss you, dear friend" like a good, old-fashioned Facebook poke. A text/phone call/poke/whatever will satisfy the minimum requirement for friendship preservation. You let your friend know: "I'm still here! I'm thinking about you and I miss you!" However, if I actually want to see any one of my friends then it's going to take a bit more finagling than agreeing upon a time to high-five in passing while walking through the campus center in between classes. There's scheduling a time, a mutually convenient and accessible location, and factoring certain travel logistics before you can see said friend. Long gone are the days of passively keeping in touch. Maintaining friendships requires some TLC -- and perhaps, a well-organized planner.

These are the times that try men's souls. Some friendships will fade, others will re-emerge stronger than ever -- but one thing is certain, things are going to change. Sure, your undying love for your friends may still be etched onto your heart, but inevitably, your interactions are subject to the difficult transition from pseudo-adulthood to real-world-adulthood. A former boss of mine commented that this is when you will see who your real friends are, and while I think she makes a valid point, I think that this period of time reveals more about the nature of your friendship with so-and-so than whether or not they are a "real" friend. You realize whether or not your friendship was circumstantial or served some sort of purpose in your life. Was this friend a crutch? Did he/she accompany you to various (terrible) on-campus parties? Or was this someone with whom you shared an inexplainable bond? You know the sort -- inside jokes comprised of Justin Bieber songs, strange nicknames that could be mistaken for speech impediments, and memories including midnight trips to get Italian pastries and pouring Mike's Hard Lemonade down someone's shorts. I think this is why some friendships last and some don't: when you're not constantly surrounded by your friends, you realize which people are most important to you (and your well-being).

So you try the best you can. You call, you text, you poke, you Tweet -- but the key to making sure your bestie remains your bestie and not one-of-the-restie is making plans and keeping them. Easier said than done when you realize your time gets allocated quickly to other things such as working out, eating, sleeping and, of course, keeping plans with other good friends. Sometimes I find that I will make plans with a friend and then not see them for another month or two, simply because our schedules don't match up. Days go by, weeks go by, and you realize it's been over a month since you and your partner-in-crime spent Friday night getting drunk off of sangria while watching Say Yes to the Dress and crying about other people's tacky weddings.

There are going to be mishaps along the way. Let's be real. I may have my phone on me at all times, but I sometimes get way too invested in a re-run of 30 Rock to remember that I haven't talked to a certain biffle. It's not for lack of caring so much as it is a brain-fog that has descended on me as a result of being burnt-out from having too much to do. I have been trying to keep people in regular rotation via talk, text and tweet -- setting the wheels in motion through convenient technology in order to start a conversation that leads to a friend-date. I think what is most important about all of this is remembering to make time for your friends. You need to -- your sanity depends on it. I think it's also important to be realistic about how often you will be able to see your friends. We're all busy people doing busy people things, so it's only natural that we can't have a movie marathon all weekend or spend three nights in a row on some sort of alcohol-induced Sporcle bender. Don't get mad at me, but... you just might not be able to see your friends as much as you used to. Once you have a more realistic expectation about seeing and hanging out with your friends, it will be easier to make plans and not be (as) disappointed when your frequent hang-outs happen a little less frequently.

No one ever said that graduating and being an "adult" was going to be easy. Actually, I've mostly had people tell me that it is going to suck. I've even had one person tell me that my 20s are going to be the worst time of my life (AWESOME!), but you know what? I'm trying. I'm being a bit more realistic about my schedule, my free time and how to manage all of it and allow for more attainable expectations.

I think someday I will get the hang of it, but until then, I'm going to have to continue to work on this whole transition (still...even over a year later).

from cheezburger.com
Shout out to my friends. You guys are awesome.
I love you. Call me. Let's hang out.

An Ode to My Agenda

from someecards.com
I've scheduled time into my planner to write this post for you.
Just kidding... but that's not a bad idea actually...

One of my favorite things about heading back to school as a kid was when my homeroom teacher would hand me a brand-new agenda/planner. So many empty pages, vacant days, all with the promise (or  curse) of too much homework, extracurriculars, and good times. I was always so eager to write down my homework and after-school activities on each day, seeing my schedule fill up before my eyes -- my month laid out before me with so many things to do. I had a life! I had purpose! I had an agenda!

Not much changed when I got older -- except this time, I purchased my own planner and my days were no longer bound to six class periods and after-school specials.Still, I would secretly (I guess, not-so-secretly anymore...) cherish my agenda as my most prized posession (next to my shoes, of course) as I filled in days, weeks and months with things to do and happily checked off all of my tasks upon completion.

Yes, you've assessed me correctly: I'm a nerd. I'm an organized nerd. And I love it.

With my work schedule and commute being what it is, I've found that simply putting my schedule in my fancy, too-smart phone will just not do. Nothing every really seems as concrete as when you put it to paper, and that's how I like to handle my schedule. Writing down that appointment or dinner with a friend is solidified in my memory with the stroke of a pen. With only so many hours in a day, and most of those hours committed to being a big girl with a big girl job, I rely upon my beloved agenda to guide me towards organized personal life nirvana. 

Like those quaint days of yore, I over-enthusiastically fill each day of my calendar, usually writing down every single detail necessary to that task or event. Eye doctor appointment coming up? Here's the address, phone number, name of the doctor, amount of time required for visit and a little, drawn smiley-face with glasses to describe the event. Grad school applications due? Well, don't forget your resume, transcripts, GRE scores, reccommendation letters, and oh hey, thumbs up-- because good for you!

Maybe this makes me seem like an artifact, a leftover from days when people preferred books over iPads and pens over styluses, but it adds a sense of order to my usually, over-thinking and chaotic thoughts and life. If I only have so many hours after work for personal time, then I want to make sure that I am utilizing them to the fullest. This might have "control freak!" written all over it -- but if I've learned anything from a busy four years at college, it's to remember to have fun! (duh)...but also, I've learned that it helps to visualize your schedule and what you need to do. I try to leave room on my schedule as well for completely unscheduled time: blank spaces in my agenda meant for whatever spontaneous urge may arise. While it might sound ridiculous (especially to those of you who don't write anything down), I find that after working eight hours and driving for three, I want to make sure that I am actually getting things done and not always letting the stress of the work week defeat me. Certainly, I use my iPhone as well, but like I said before,  as the paper absorbs the ink, I absorb my schedule -- making it easier to remember and imprinted in my memory (poetic, right?)

So why have I shared this with all of you? I suppose I just wanted to offer some insight into how I try to manage my life these days (even though, apparently, this is how I've managed my time since I was about 11 years old.) I have had trouble adjusting to my schedule, despite (like I touch upon in my previous post) having been at my job for almost a year. I find that by planning things in advance and writing events/tasks/deadlines down in my agenda, I can find a way to eliminate some of the stress that's been induced by my commute or long day, and stick to doing the things that keep me sane and healthy (meeting up with friends, doctor's appointments, yoga classes, etc).

How have you managed the transition from a flexible college schedule to the more rigid 9-to-5? Do you rely on ol' faithful (A.K.A. the archaic weekly planner) or your smartypants phones?

Let me know. Maybe we can discuss sometime? I can pencil you in.