I feel like a lot of things I have been thinking and feeling and trying to process all coalesced today when I went to get the stuff out of the glovebox and trunk of my car in preparation for it going to salvage.

I started sobbing silently as we drove away from the place and I knew it had to me more than the fact that buying a new car is a hassle and a headache. Logically I know I will figure it all out and make it work. Yes, I will have less money to save now than I hoped initially, but at least I have a full-time job and the potential to have been saving money to begin with.

No, my tears weren’t only out of stress and frustration.

I felt in that moment true grief at the loss of this mechanical object who’s been my constant companion these past two years, literally witnessing my journey from WV to here.

Not only was Tabitha the first and only car I’ve ever had, but she was the car that brought me to Texas. Another tie to my non-Texas life that’s now been severed.

A friend told me to think of this as a new chapter in my life – new job, new apartment, new car.

But I just want my car back.

Even if it wasn’t the best car it was still MY car.

I know none of these feelings are logical as the tears stream down my face, but somehow all I can think is that I don’t know who I am anymore.

And I certainly have no idea what I’m doing.

I’m 25 years old and I guess that means I’m supposed to know something about what my life should be.

But I don’t.

I totally fail at this adult life thing.

The only time I’ve ever worked 40-hours a week like this was a few summer internships in college.

I’m supposed to be getting certified for this new job in a week and I don’t even want it anymore.

I’m sure I’ll be good at it. It’s not that difficult to remember where to look up the information I will need to tell people who call in.

But it’s boring and repetitive.

And I’m working for a company that works for companies, which anyone who’s been to graduate school knows is problematic on so many levels.

I can’t see it as just a job. I see myself as a cog in the machinery of society and I want to be a different cog.

But this is the only job I’ve been able to get.

And now I’m having to buy a new car to be able to drive to the job that I don’t even want so I can live.

And I can barely keep up with dishes and laundry and feeding the cat, let alone artistic pursuits or planning for the future.

I was trying to take a break by getting a job but I don’t know that this is easier than graduate school. It’s still hard and stressful. I’m still sleep-deprived.

But now I don’t know that what I’m doing matters in a cosmic sense and I don’t just want a job to pay the rent.

I want to do something I can believe in.

And I know the fact that I can even say I want that bespeaks my privilege.

But I feel like I’m drowning.

How did I get here?

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

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