February

If it had been any other year I would’ve already missed my chance to do a February update. However, fortune favors those who don’t own calendars or something like that.

The past two months have been a whirlwind of activity. I started my second semester of sophomore (really junior because I came in with mad AP credits but I’m refusing to take less than four years) year. It’s been an uncomfortable adjustment. My classes are really hard and there’s a sense of pressure in the air to get an internship and start climbing that corporate ladder. For the first time, the academic pressure might not be created solely by me being a total competitive psychopath. It might actually be real. At the same time, I’ve been reading the controversial book Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg, which deals with women in the workplace and her personal philosophy on work-life balance. It’s been interesting to try to scope out some form of balance in my life when my natural inclination is pedal-to-the metal.

I am lucky to have a great sounding board in this. My mom is a #girlboss, though she would probably argue with that term. She is my personal momager, if only because momtor (mom mentor) and moss (mom boss) sound weird. 

She rocks. In a world that tells me to relentlessly go forward, she reminds me that sometimes it is better to lean out. Earlier this year, I said almost jokingly that if I couldn’t get an internship I would go camp and volunteer at Yellowstone all summer and she asked if she could come too. I was surprised that someone as accomplished and organized as my mother would even consider that to be a valid plan. She reminds me daily that I am young and life is long and no one really has a plan or knows what they’re doing. Word is still out if you will be able to find us in a tent this summer, but I know no matter what she will support me (my dad will also support me– from the comfort of his power recliner).

In the spirit of leaning out, or rather, leaning into only those things I really care about, I became a rho chi recruitment leader. While it doesn’t sound as impressive as some of the other things I work on (no one ever asks me about it in an interview), finding out that I was chosen to help 90 freshmen women find their home during rush week brought me to tears. I screamed and jumped and scared my boyfriend when I found out; I still count it as one of the happiest moments of my life. I think about my chance to make an impact on these women often; I already feel personally invested in their success. If nothing else goes right with my internship search or my summer plans, but I am able to help my rho chi group find community at Alabama, I will feel successful. I am overjoyed to have something in my life that makes me feel so on top of the world, even if it is not an internship or a job (hiring manager$: plea$e con$ider hiring $ome intern$).

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Here is a picture of me dressed as a boy for a skit last year during rush, just for funsies.

Today I leaned in to a warm sunny day, checking my email a reasonable number of times, and spending time watching reality TV with my best friends. I can’t put that on my resume, but I feel good. One of my favorite poems, “The Orange,” by Wendy Cope ends as such: “The rest of the day was quite easy/ I did all the jobs on my list/ And enjoyed them and had some time over/ I love you. I’m glad I exist.”

I am glad.

Megan