December 11, 2023
Dear VTY girls,
Miss you all! Hope everyone’s well.
I’m doing just fine. I’ve been at my job for a little over a year, I have my own health insurance, and I go to the gym a few times a week. By all means, I’m doing okay. But lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about this phase of life. To me, it’s very weird. I feel so in between. In limbo. For all my adult responsibilities and progress, I have the same itch under my skin I did when I was 17. When will my life start??
In some ways, I’ve forsaken some of the independence I built up in college. This is (obviously) because I currently live with my parents. The itch is on the periphery of my thoughts. It’s not at the forefront, and it’s not inducing rash decision-making (yet). But it does need to be scratched. I feel as though I’m waiting for my life to restart.
The good news is I’ve decided that’s a terrible way to live. I don’t want to waste my youth and my sexiest years waiting! Any advice on how to break out? (beyond moving out, I like saving money too much!)
My sense of ennui has faded and is not much more than a memory of teenage angst. But my sense of the first circle of hell is increasing. Perhaps a more French mindset re: work, life, and fun is the prescription. Anyways – that’s one of the thoughts percolating in my head. Anxiously awaiting your replies.
Very truly yours,
Julianne
Dear Julianne,
Waiting. God, I feel the same. My life feels so up in the air right now—this whole year has felt that way—as if I have been tossed into the sky and have no idea which way is which. I am still waiting for myself to land.
I find myself very disillusioned by adult life—more specifically, with work. I know that this is not a rare feeling. I know that most people grumble at having to work and rejoice at the time they get away from their jobs, but I feel as though I missed a necessary step in becoming okay with the fact that I have to waste 40 hours of my week at work. And sure, perhaps this is an issue of framing. But I am reluctant to convince myself that this is okay. My mind is so brilliant at constructing romantic settings to encase really quite difficult situations I am in, and there is always a moment afterwards where the veil lifts and I am suddenly miserable and defenseless in the face of suffering I denied myself. I am wondering if I should sit in my misery and hope that it moves me.
I am so passive. I often resign myself to enduring and adapting as opposed to fighting, but I am beginning to feel that that is a sort of violence against myself. But I don’t know which way to move.
I think to break out you need to do something different. I often find a sense of freedom in experiencing something with fresh eyes by disrupting my routine. I feel compressed when the scant hours after work fly through my fingers before I even have the chance to grab them, and so I think deliberately planning something special or different during play time can be fun. The trick is to think about the plans as something exciting as opposed to a chore.
Very truly yours,
Mackenzie
Dear Julianne et Kenzie?
I recently went to The Momentary, a performance-based art museum near my home in Fayetteville. The exhibit currently featured is from artist Richard Mosse, who has documented the transformation of a few ecosystems over the past 10 years. He highlights the widespread, devastating changes in these areas through “micro” moments. The main art piece is a video experience showing the day-to-day life in the Amazon forest for all inhabitants.
The video that has stuck with me since this afternoon was the documentation of slaughterhouse workers. The workers must have a quota to kill and butcher a certain number of cows in order to provide for their families. The work seems to be mechanical, as they do it every day, all day, over and over again.
While this video inspired me to be grateful for the job I have, it made me start to question that maybe working isn't the problem, but rather the way work is displaced and outsourced so that we have no connection to the objects we use daily is the problem. Maybe if we lived more communally, or were able to create, touch, and build, the things we were working on we would feel a sense of connection and pride in our work. Meaningfulness. We feel less like we are working for imaginary money to exchange for goods that have no greater purpose in our lives than to provide a fleeting sense of pleasure.
But also it had me thinking that we just need to shut the fuck up and just put our heads down and work. And that if we care for certain hobbies and passions we will make them happen no matter the circumstance. You can only receive things that you have been asking for so try something new.
Julianne– I think we should focus less on saving all our money and more on making memories. I’m convinced people from before 2008 didn’t actually save money and you have rich parents so maybe buy something entirely too expensive or invest in a crazy creative endeavor. Hope this reply doesn’t feel too manic :)
Very truly,
Grace
Richard Mosse
Here’s a photo from the exhibit :)
Dear Julianne, (& Kenz, Grace, Syd)
It’s hard to articulate, but in the same vein, I feel like I am trapped in a liminal space in between stages of my life. Something is coming, I can feel it. But I’m not sure what it is or how to actualize it so right now I’m mostly struggling with boredom.
The idea of being disconnected from work and production is something I’ve been thinking about a lot. As y’all know I got a new remote job recently (thank you to Grace’s fiancée Reed for the hookup). The simultaneous pro and con of remote work is that I can work from home in my sweats every day and have little human interaction. I have no physical office, co-workers I have never met in person, and no real passion for my specific role, though I am very grateful to have my job. Even my “passion project” jobs running PR for theatre companies in the city are mostly remote, and therefore I feel distanced in all aspects of my professional life.
The scary thing is… I am shockingly good at being a hermit. I have always craved alone time, but especially now that the days are colder and shorter, I find myself holed away in my cozy apartment all day and it… doesn't bother me?
I can’t help but feel I am slipping into a routine that lacks any edge. Feeling secure is a luxury and I’m grateful to even have this issue as so many people live without the comforts of stability every day. However, I’m becoming increasingly self-conscious that an outside examination of my life would prove underwhelming. Maybe I’m just suffering from ego death, as I was pretty sure I was much cooler than I’m feeling right now.
All that to say is, I understand this feeling of getting lost in a routine without much nuance or enthusiasm, and I’m also trying to find a way out.
I’ve been thinking that to combat monotony we should all try to do one thing a week that challenges us in some way, and then we can sort of keep each other accountable and talk about what little thing we did to fight back against the endless march of routine. Anyone else want to try that?
Very truly yours,
Avery
Dear Julianne,
I think you’re describing the feeling of your frontal lobe finishing up its development. At least I hope so because I’m feeling the same way and would prefer that it’s some indicator of growth rather than an indicator that I’m on some wrong or too slow path towards the fun, fulfilling type of life I want to be living. For now, I think being in the waiting stage is okay - it means that so much good is yet to come!
I agree with Avery that we should attempt something challenging each week and share our attempts to fight the ‘endless march of routine.’ One thing I did that was out of the ordinary recently was trying to go back to church after a long time away (not in a super religious-way more in a looking for good vibes and community and hoping to sing a couple songs-way). It was an evening advent service themed around Hope which I found very moving. The pastor seemed like a nice guy and even made me a cup of hot chocolate (though I’m pretty sure he used cow milk which is yucky and I did drink it to be polite despite my lactose intolerance).
Anyways, love and miss you all. Please spend some time conspiring about how we can all get on a trip together soon.
Very truly yours,
Sydney
