Life is an uphill battle, but why toil with the stairs when you can take the elevator to the top?
I’m a common white girl from Connecticut and my idea of a struggle is figuring out how close I need to get to the drive-thru window in order to reach my food without unbuckling my seatbelt.
People tell you from day one to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. So that’s what I do. But it’s a constant battle with the weather these days. I can’t get anything to go my way. I mean how am I supposed to channel corporate chic when I live in a metaphorical snowglobe and can’t wear heels to work?
Most days I wake up and hope against all odds that my hair picks a side between curly and straight and sticks to it. A lot of times that doesn’t happen, and it makes me really upset. If I knew it was going to be a bad hair day, I would have worn it in a bun initially, instead of wasting all it’s promise on the morning where I slapped myself every time I went to move one perfectly formed tendrel away from my face.
I moved out of my parents house almost two years ago, during that time I attempted to move my dresser up three flights of stairs. Eventually, I just asked my three younger brothers to help me out. I’m a huge advocate of outsourcing labor. Especially when it involves me delegating and not participating.
One time I was so hungover that I called out of work. The struggle was so real. I persevered by taking an inordinate amount of naps on a Wednesday.
There are a lot of aspects of my life that I find particularly difficult. For one, I can never decide which restaurant I want to try first, so I often make a decision based on the wine selections. If they don’t have pinot noir, they are obviously a bootleg establishment, and don’t deserve
my parents’ my money.
In attempt to not sound completely superficial and unaware of other human beings on this planet, I want to let everyone know that I have read multiple books — well, I sparknoted them — and understand the plight that other races and cultures have experienced through the written word. And boy, does that suck.
But the thing is, I’m not minimizing any of that stuff. I have feelings, thoughts, and values. I am a real person who empathizes with others.
I value shopping and what it does to support the economy. I am absolutely aware that my hard-earned dollars are contributing – in some way that I don’t actually understand – to this country’s health and well-being. I think voting is scary, so I don’t do it because politicians use big words and research is a lot of effort.
I feel like all the problems in the world would be solved if we were all tan and from Florida. You know why you never hear about unrest in Florida? Because everyone is actually resting and enjoying the sun. There’s no time for fighting when you’re living in a perpetual fantasy land. You’re welcome, world.
But growing up privileged does not mean I am immune to adversity. I posted a Facebook update on my whereabouts during my European vacation, and only seven people liked it. I took that as a cue to make a better effort at posting more interesting updates. By the end of my trip, I had almost forty people like my post about, “Putting the ‘Bar’ in Barcelona!” Success.
I do my best to shatter the rich white girl stereotype. Whenever there isn’t an attendant on duty, I’ll wait five minutes before reluctantly pumping my own gas. I also make a point to throw my spare change into the tip donation jars, you know, because every penny counts and I don’t use them anyways.
It’s not all glitz and glamour. I face just as many strifes each week as another person. After a hard day of pretending to work (but going on Pinterest instead), all I need to relax is a goblet of wine and a good television show. It’s times like these that I realize the Gods are smiting me because last week I had no wine on a Tuesday and my Netflix crashed so I was forced to watch the news. I was asleep in my clothes before 8pm. Thanks a lot, technology.
People say it’s a dog eat dog world, but I’ve never witnessed it. I can’t understand why a dog would want to eat another dog, and I don’t really understand why that phrase applies to human nature in the slightest. I’ve never been denied a job opportunity, and constantly look for ways to slide under the radar while still being labeled as “efficient” within my workplace.
I’m just trying to do my best to survive on a reasonable salary while maintaining an active social life and not buying store-brand groceries.
I’m a common white girl and my idea of a struggle is understanding what it means to struggle.
12 thoughts on “The Common White Girl’s Idea of Struggling”
I don’t understand taxes and voting scares me too 🙂
You never hear about problems from Florida because a) Floridians all have Alzheimers and don’t remember their problems, b) there aren’t problems until there’s a hurricane. Then everyone either gets out or stays and dies in which case you’re not hearing about problems from Florida because no one is left alive in Florida to tell you their problems. I think.
You make me sick.
This is hilarious. You just made my day.
Thank you!! Glad you stopped by 🙂