A Day of Unease

Sometimes, maybe a day or two each week, I am overcome… not with anxiety… at least, not in this case, but a real sense of unease. Like I know I’m not doing what I’m “supposed” to be doing. And I’m not talking about being in quarantine.

I currently sit on our gray modern couch because my boyfriend is working upstairs; he made that space his loft when we (he)bought the house, so his claim to the area is valid. Nonetheless, I’m slowly starting to resent this couch. The couch that we knew was the one when we walked into Copenhagen Furniture one sweaty afternoon following a trip to the Farmer’s Market.

But when I stroll out of bed at 6:30 each morning, I look at lounger like it poured me vodka instead of water.

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Photo by Amariei Mihai on Unsplash

As I type this out, I smile, realizing the couch is a metaphor, showing me that I’ve become stagnant — specifically, stagnant in my full time job.

I’m the Vice President of a behavioral health billing company, though really, I got the title just by asking for it. And to be even more transparent, the boyfriend that’s upstairs in his man loft, which is likely inundated with dip spitters, is the boss. We’ve been working together for over seven years now.

Being self aware, I can recognize that I am very good at my job, and I fully believe everything I’ve learned at said company has given me the tools I need to move forward into the next phase of my career, even that time I got into a screaming match with a financial analyst in the hallway.

So, as I fumbled around my email, half appreciating the slow day, half frustrated by the fact that I wasn’t getting a slew of back to back phone calls to distract me, I decided to breathe. Yes, that’s it… that silly sounding thing people tell us to do when we feel stressed or on edge that sometimes makes us roll our eyes.

“Fine, fuck it. What do I have to lose?” I asked myself.

So, I put my red Bose headphones in without connecting to music or my favorite podcast (Armchair, obviously), and simply allowed myself to breathe — deep inhale, hold — deep exhale.

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Photo by Valeriia Bugaiova on Unsplash

Suddenly, I had an inclination to get on Medium, which is where I found Gillian Sisley’s latest post about how she’s now making a full time income on this platform.

Huzzah! Thanks, intuition! I finish reading and feel inspired.

I realize that my sense of unease is a gift — that it’s time to hold myself accountable to chase my dreams because I know I’m a talented writer. And I know that if the inner vision board for my life should come to pass, I have to put in every ounce of effort and then some.

It’s not as if John Doe’s gonna ring my (super loud) doorbell and say:

“Are you Devon Herrera?”

To which I would respond, “yes… yes, I am,” touching my hair with both hands, trying to smooth it out, knowing the quarantine look was extremely prevalent.

“Amazing. Here, I have this package for you that holds all of your most profound wishes. Have a great day!”

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Photo by jesse ramirez on Unsplash

What would I find inside that box, though? Let’s open it together, yes?

Woah! Mindy Kaling + Devon Herrera Production Company
A chance to work with the SNL cast and writing crew
An offer to purchase my life story and make it into a show or movie
Smooth skin (why not?)
Financially independent via writing / creating
The opportunity to travel all over the world (without fear of any bat viruses impacting my immune system)
Obama back in office… okay, maybe not — I know he must be tired.

You get it… but you know what? As much as I’d love to see those things come to fruition, I know I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it, as part of every reward is the effort you put into it.

I mean, how many of you are watching The Last Dance documentary? Not only does it show Michael Jordan’s insane talent, but his work ethic. If his trainer told him to do 10 reps, he’d do 15, without fail, because he wanted to be great, and he wanted to earn it.

I think we can all recognize we feel better when we lay our head down at night if our day was productive… as opposed to sitting on the couch watching re-runs of the Office while mowing down Chick-Fil-A… as tempting as that sounds.

Speaking of The Office… John Krasinski’s SGN videos?! I cry every time…

I digress.

So, I’d like to vow to continue creating daily, in hopes my consistency not only pays off (literally), but allows me to grow as a writer and accomplish the goals I set.

As I conclude this little therapy session for myself, I can feel my agitation melt away.

This is what I’m supposed to be doing.

Written by

Inspirations: Mindy Kaling, Issa Rae, Lena Dunham. Trying to manifest some combination of them all + Vince Vaughn’s wit. BLACK LIVES MATTER

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