Page 257: I Hope It's Not a Load-Bearing Wall

Yesterday, Meredith Grey bashed through her old life with a sledgehammer.

Okay, that is a bit of hyperbole, but I feel like Meredith was ready to start anew in last night's season 12 premiere of Grey's Anatomy. For a brief time during the end sequence of the show, I saw myself.

***

Welcome to your life. There's no turning back.

At around 3:30 am, I found myself crying and laughing at the same time.

I would be lying if I said that life since Tym's death has been easy. It's a constant cycle of change. Some days, I'm okay. Some days, I'm not. Whether I'm okay or not, I've pushed forward and continuing to live because there is so much that I want to do with my life.

I've been having bad dreams lately, dreams where I've been haunted by ghosts in almost a literal sense. I've dreamed about Tym. I've dreamed about my maternal grandmother. I've dreamed about my father. I wake up feeling panicked and sick and sad. It's likely that my stress has manifested in these dreams but I've never dreamed about my late relatives suffering like I've had this week. In an effort to fix this, I finally made a call to speak with a therapist again.

Going back to yesterday's episode of Grey's Anatomy, Meredith was pretty pissed with Amelia about putting a hole in the wall of the living room in their house. Of course, this caused conflict throughout the episode but there was a moment where Owen, dependable Owen, was almost caught in the middle of an argument between Mer and Amelia about the wall during a surgery. His response to diffuse the situation? He asked if the wall was load-bearing and then advised that the foundation of the house could collapse if it was. Again, the parallel between Meredith and myself and that damn wall was resonating.

In the past few months, I have really beaten myself up because I feel like I've made some really huge mistakes. I know that grief was motive, but that feeling of failure never goes away. When I'm not feeling like I'm a total fuck-up, I think about how far I've come in the past year. It probably wouldn't seem like I've made much progress but I think I have.

I've fully dedicated myself to school. I have struggles with wanting to go and having to sit through class and questioning if I'm even making the right decision. However, I am learning so much and my critical thinking abilities have improved and I've finally found a place where I feel like I can try to make a difference and satisfy myself at the same time. Yesterday, I had a wonderful lecture at school. Later that day, I had a conversation with my mother and told her that this is "my work." I discussed what the lecture was about and the new Global Goals initiative and said, "My work would include..." I felt really freaking successful in that moment.

In the meantime, I'm also looking for a job because I want to keep working on my studies and I'm going to have to start paying my tuition soon. I also have a lot of things I want to do with my life in general and while getting unemployment is great, I miss the astronomical amount of money I made biweekly when I was working (especially with the mandatory overtime).

I like that I'm moving forward and I want to keep moving forward, but I really do hope that I don't let my foundation collapse because I've destroyed a load-bearing wall. Since none of that is actually literal for me, it means that I hope that I can keep myself up without making myself sick or letting everything I am building right now fall apart. I like to think that I have a lot of time to do everything I want, but I'm still learning and maybe that's a good thing.

Page 253: The Art of Wanting to Give Up (and Not Doing So)

Last week was one of the hardest weeks I've had in months. I'm good under pressure and find that I work really well in those conditions, but it's only when necessary. Last week, up until yesterday, felt unnecessary and I became a hopeless wreck.

There are very few outside influences that sends my anxiety off the charts. Money is one of them. I loved my job and everything that came with it, so it broke my heart when I no longer felt comfortable there after Tym's death. I blame him and the circumstances, even though he couldn't control dying. Still, he was the only person who could throw me off my perch and he did. Not having a job and not making as much money as I used to has me in a spiral of anxiety and frustration.

I missed two classes last week and that made me feel even worse because I am so content with my school schedule, but I am literally being pulled in two different directions. I can do school and not make any money or I can work and not take classes. When I started this semester, I thought I was doing what God had wanted of me, but I'm not sure anymore.

I thought about giving up last week. I thought about dropping my classes and not looking for work and instead just laying in bed and crying until I ran out of tears. I felt like being in a maze I couldn't get out of, and then I went to class on Thursday and saw an alarming video on war in my Peace Studies class.

Talk about a mindfuck.

When I came out of class that day, I felt even more hopeless than before because that feeling of defeat was on a more global scale. I was sure that the only way that things would get better was if I became President or if God just ended the world. Until yesterday, I was all for God ending the world now. Do you know what happened next?

I remembered that it was my half-birthday.

My half-birthday is nothing special, if I'm being honest, but I think it's special because it's the birthday of an old friend of mine. Until last year, I wished her a happy birthday and she would wish me a happy half-birthday. On my birthday, I would wish her a happy half-birthday and she would wish me a happy birthday. Even though we weren't super close, it was our tradition and that tradition reminded me that there are bad things in the world but there are also good things in the world. I also felt like if I just gave up, I would be letting God and my family down, especially since I was as strong as I could be after Tym died.

I wish I knew what I'm supposed to be doing. I wish I knew that things would be okay. I don't know anyone who likes being scared and uncertainty is a scary thing for me. I'm trying to build myself back up from Hell Week, but I think I'll be different this time. I'll have to be more compromising and non-resistant because there are things that need to be done right now and it'll just keep getting worse if I'm not flexible to it. I've been through situations like this many times. I know how this works and I know that I'm going to have to start fighting again. So, let's do this.

Page 247: This Passion Thing

I'm a firm believer that when someone finds their passion, he or she will start seeing life differently. Suddenly, everything in their lives mean nothing until that moment when they find their passion and start following it. Their lives have indelibly changed.

Of course, that's how I thought it went for people who found their passion. I had yet to find mine.

I thought it was writing for a good long while. I really did. I felt like I could write my way through life and I would be complete. Then, I finished my book last year and there was a period in which I wondered what was next. That didn't last long, though, because my husband died and I was totally consumed with other things. Writing didn't feel like a passion anymore, though.

I thought that teaching was my passion as well. I'm not completely convinced that it's not, though. I still really enjoy the idea of teaching children and/or teenagers how to be productive members of society and possible scholars. I feel like I can do that and I would be fulfilled, but I don't know if I'm as passionate about it as I once was. I think part of it was simply projecting because I want to be a mom. Being a mom is always a passion for me, but not one that I will find any time soon.

For lack of a better sentiment, I was passionless. I didn't have a passion for anything.

Then, I started classes this semester.

I wasn't looking for anything that would make me all full of passion and want me to throw my ring in anything, but I did want this semester to mean something much different from the previous two semesters felt. I was looking to prove that I was happy to attend my dream school and that my dead person's money was being put to good use. So, I decided to take a Conflict Resolution class because I once said that I wanted to be good at that. I took a Global Studies class because I was interested in the major. I wanted to learn something before my financial aid ran out. Some. Thing.

Surprisingly, it was not my Global Studies class that made me feel passionate, although I'm learning a lot. I found my passion in my Conflict Resolution course. I felt like this was something I could talk about all day. When my teacher mentioned that she was getting her Master's in Sustainable Peace Building, my eyes glittered like I was looking at something sparkly. I found a part of a calling that I could get on board with, something I could do for the rest of my life.

On October 1st, I am going to officially change my major to Global Security.

I still write. It's not as much as it was when I was a teen or even when I was in my 20s, that shitty decade. I plan to keep working on my book and maybe age, and experience, will help me make it even better than it currently is. As for teaching, maybe I'll teach a new generation about Conflict Resolution and Peace Studies while I'm getting my Master's.

I hope to work for the Federal Government when I'm done with college. I think I would be a good asset to them. I would love to work at the United Nations or NATO, wherever I can make the biggest impact in helping the world become a little more peaceful. Who knows? I could end up becoming the first Black Female President. That would be cool.

Page 241: To the Kid Who Wore Jeans on Her Wedding Day

On this day, seven years ago, I got married. I was 23, naïve and in love. I'd never been in love like that before, so getting married was the next step.

It was a big step for me. I'd never planned on getting married but there I was, in the basement of a courthouse, saying "I Do," and it was perfect. The day, though gray and dreary, was perfect. I don't know how, but I managed to find someone just as weird (if not weirder) as I was. I think he was weirder, though.

Tym introduced me to a lot of things and despite our ups and downs, he was my best friends and one of my biggest advocates. There was one time when I accidentally dropped out of my Spanish class and he actually became indignant when I told him that I wasn't sure that the teacher would let me back in, despite the fact that I was passing. He kept me afloat many times and I'd like to think that I kept him afloat as well. He stopped going to Chicago to get his taxes done because I was good at it.

When he went back home, I was devastated. I didn't know how I would get over it. I was mad at him and at myself because I felt like I had failed and I didn't want a failed marriage like Ross on Friends. We went through so much that I was forced to grow up. I matured so much in such a little time because I had no choice. He made me so happy but he also made me so sad.

I always told myself that we just needed to get to five years. If we got to our fifth anniversary, we would be fine. That's what I believed and when we did, I felt successful. I managed a long distance marriage for five years and that felt like a victory. Then, he was gone for good and yet, I still acknowledge my marriage.

I told my mother last month that I won't talk about him anymore and that I will move forward with my life, but he's still there. He's still in my heart and my mind, despite his death. Sometimes, I wonder if I should keep talking about him so I can grieve properly, but it's devastating to relive that day over and over. It's hard to be labeled "widow" even though I'm only 30. When my dad died, my mom was nearly in her 50s. She'd spent almost 30 years with him, married him and had his children. I don't have any children, even though it's for the best right now. All I have of him is some of his clothes and some of his belongings, as well as memories.

I still feel successful. I did what I was supposed to do and I can look back fondly at our great moments. I'm embarrassed of our bad moments, but they were natural. I don't know how many people will experience love like the love I had, but I hope they do because it'll keep them going. It keeps me going. So, here's to seven years. It was well earned.

Page 234: The Danger of a Single Story

Today was my first day of class for the fall semester and as previously mentioned, I am taking Global Studies 101: People and Politics as well as Intro to Conflict Resolution and Peace Studies. My Global Studies 101 course was today and along with my fellow classmates, we got down to the nitty-gritty about politics, culture and global issues. There were about 11 issues that are current, but my teacher is a RN PhD who also does research and help lots of people with AIDS in Kenya, so she warned us to let her know when she gets a little too biased about the subject of health.

There was a lot of information to obtain for the first day, but it came down to culture is acquired and culture can be used as a detriment. After the lecture, my classmates and I watched a TED Talk of Chimimanda Adichie, who is a wonderful writer. It was called The Danger of a Single Story, hence the title of this post.

In the TED Talk, Ms. Adichie spoke of how she first read stories about Caucasian children who talked about the weather and enjoyed the sun, and how it was discouraging because there was no one in the stories that was like her. When she was a child, there was also a houseboy that worked for her family and her mother always pointed out how poor the houseboy and his family were, but Ms. Adichie was shocked when she and her family visited the houseboy's home and was astonished to see a beautiful basket that the houseboy's brother made himself. She thought that the family was too poor to make anything.

When Ms. Adichie arrived in America for college, her roommate was stunned that she spoke perfect English instead of gibberish and listened to Mariah Carey instead of "tribal music." According to John Locke and Rudyard Kipling, people in Africa were dark and evil, and Ms. Adichie believed that the single idea in these stories/statements were passed down to her roommate, who made these stupid assumptions about her.

(if you want to TL;DR, watch the video here)

After watching the video, I got to thinking about what stereotypes I may be harboring for the sheer reason of because it was what I had learned. At the age of 30, there aren't many stereotypes, but that's not true of everyone. People are color are targeted constantly because of the stereotypes they are subjected to. Black people are considered to be ignorant, "ghetto" and loud. They eat fried chicken and watermelon. Hispanic people are considered to be the ones who would take any jobs, stealing the resources from this country by crossing the border. Middle Eastern people are constantly considered to be suspicious. After 9/11, I doubt that there has been one Middle Eastern adult that has not been called a terrorist. Asian people are considered to be super smart. Their women are fetishized by the "geisha" stereotype.

These problematic labels were all created by a single story that has been constantly perpetuated throughout generations. There are even more stereotypes that I haven't mentioned in this post, and a lot of people are mentioned in those stereotypes, including Caucasian people.

I know that I haven't even touched on what I will learn in this class, but a single story can be more dangerous than you know. I am definitely reflecting on what I've learned, what I've shared and how I've encouraged stereotypes. I hate the term "learning experience," especially because of the many times I've heard it this year alone, but I guess my class and today has been a learning experience for me. I have to check my stereotypical thoughts at the door, and I look forward to that because I will benefit so much from it. If I can benefit from it, I'll be able to help others benefit from it as well.

What are some of the single stories you have heard?

P.S: Did you know that today, 21,000 children have died? Did you know that African-American men in Harlem have shorter life spans than people in Bangladesh, Japan and Algiers combined? Did you also know that the U.S is #29 when it comes to the rating of our healthcare and that our GDP is $48,000 while Kenya's is $1,600? The more you know...

Page 232: Goodbye, August

Yesterday, I literally scoured the internet to find out what day my father's birthday was. I promise I'm not a bad daughter. I simply thought that his birthday was today and not August 30th.

I'm a bad daughter.

Forgetting my late father's birthday aside, August was a good month. It was a full month. I strengthened my mind by playing lots of Tetris and Quiz Up. Then, I destroyed all that new brain power by watching Sex and the City as well as vlogs. I broke my social media vacation and applied to lots of jobs. I hung out with my sister and went to see a scary movie that made me scream at the beginning and completely underwhelmed me at the end. I finally renewed my library card and visited the library for the first time in at least two years. Last week, I had an internship interview. It went well and would've gone better if I was a full-time student this semester. Still, the internship coordinator loved me and I think she would've made an exception if she could have. From the résumé to my personality, she loved me.

I spent the weekend going to Best Buy, literally. I went there yesterday, Saturday and Friday. I also went there today and I was more than relieved to have everything finally settled so I don't need to go back. I had to replace my headphones, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that I had a warranty for a DSLR I no longer have and I wanted my refund. The customer service people at Best Buy kept screwing it up, so that meant for various trips. I was highly pissed off yesterday by what I thought was complete incompetence. Finally, it was fixed, though, so I don't have to go back there for a while. I'm so happy.

This week, I start my classes and I'm excited. I didn't even think I would actually be able to go this semester, but a last-minute surprise came through and my classes were fully paid for. I'm taking Intro to Global Studies: People and Politics as well as Intro to Conflict Resolution and Peace Studies this fall and one of my classes is actually in an old hospital. I'm pretty excited about it, to be honest, although I'm a little worried about ghosts. My class is during the day, but still.

I feel like these classes will be a challenge to me mentally because the syllabi show that they will evoke emotions in completely opposite directions. We all know about politics at this point, and we know that they are not easy and not peaceful a lot of the time, so I'm going to have to deal with that in my Global Studies course. Then, I'm going to have to go into my Conflict Resolution class and learn how to become a peaceful part of society the next day. I really don't know how to feel about that, even though I am a person who is always up for a challenge. I hope that I can work through some of my feelings about what I am studying and what is going on in this country. It won't be easy. I really won't, but college isn't supposed to be easy. Right?

By the way, I started writing again. It's baby steps currently, but I've been slowly getting through the fog. I feel like something is being lifted off me, even though I can't wait until I start doing more. Maybe it was a summer thing and now that summer is almost over, the weight of not writing is lifting. That's what I hope it was. I'm ready for the fall and all the tranquility I happen to find during these months.

Page 219: Remnants

Last year, I spent a series of moments paying for other people's drinks at the Starbucks tucked in the back of the Barnes & Noble that used to be my hideaway. I did it because I could and it reminded me of an old friend who used to be a barista. That friend stood by me during some really tough times, even though she was going through a lot herself. Her health wasn't the best, but she was always there until she wasn't. I haven't heard from her in over a year and a half. I don't know if she's alive or not.

Since the beginning of August, I've been on a break from most of social media just to get away from all the opinions that were overwhelming my opinions, all the thoughts that were overwhelming my thoughts. It's been mostly effective. I don't really spend much time on Twitter except to speak to a friend or two, which is not even close to nearly spending the entire day on Twitter like I used to. I don't do much on Facebook except speak to my best friend, whose number I didn't have until almost a week ago. Other than that, I play Tetris and Quiz-Up on my phone. I feel as though I can no longer say that I am on a break from social media. I've simply separated myself from it and I think that's just going to be a thing I'm doing from now on. It's time.

I haven't written at all this month. I keep meaning to and yet, I don't and I'm okay with that. The urge may come back once this month is over and I've distanced myself further from social media, but I'm okay with that too.

I went to my physician at the beginning of the month and was put on medication for high blood pressure. This had been a year in the making, so I wasn't surprised. I am pretty diligent with taking it, but I sleep a lot more than I did. It's a necessary evil, so I decided to work on other things. I've set up a time where I am supposed to get ready for bed. I don't eat as much anymore, but I want to start getting three meals in. My body craves yogurt, potatoes and lettuce, so I try to indulge it. I'm trying to improve on what I have control over. It's not easy and sometimes it's not fun, but I do it because I'm 30 and I want to have a long life ahead of me.

I've let go of the parts of me that I once was. I have started to make an effort to not look back anymore and for the most part, it's working. I'm trying to feel more comfortable in my skin, and that's working for the most part as well. Every once in a while, it feels like I'm surrounded by people who either haven't changed in years or have gone through drastic changes and I'm in between. I'm just ready to turn my back on it all and start fresh. I'm okay with that.

Page 199: To New Beginnings

It's funny how the one day that should have been the most hellish day ever turned out to be really nice.

Monday was the first anniversary of Tym's death, and my sleep had been terrible. I managed to get past 3:30 am, which was the time he was apparently killed but sleep eluded me. Miracles do happen, though, because I was able to get some sleep. The day was pretty laid back and despite some issues with my home, I ended up watching Sex and the City and then spending the rest of the night lumping with my mom and watching To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar; which is my new favorite feel good movie, while eating take out. Once my mom fell asleep, I watched the rest of Armageddon because Bruce Willis.

That day, I tweeted a variation of a quote between Bryce Dallas Howard and Ellen Burstyn in The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond (great movie, by the way) that said "It's not the end of the world, nor the beginning," but I think a part of me is wrong in saying that it's not the beginning. I think that the first anniversary of Tym's death actually was the beginning of something, maybe not the world, but of something.

The past seven months have rejuvenated me to the point of exhausting. It seems as though I've shed all the things that held me to my old life with Tym. I no longer have my job. I don't have any of the life insurance money anymore. I don't really have any emotional attachments to the person I was when I was married to Tym and when Tym died last year. In fact, my life seems to have rewound itself back to before I met Tym almost eight years ago. I don't see why this wouldn't be a wonderful time to start over.

It's odd, and I know there'll be a struggle with truly letting go at first, but it feels a little great to wake up with a second chance but with the knowledge from all the years where you may have stumbled. I didn't have the time to find out who I was before getting married because I was madly in love and I was 23 and it was good. I found out that I was a good wife, but I was still a wife until he died and then, I became a widow. Widow will probably stick with me for a while but now, I can truly learn who I am without a significant other. I can begin to create myself and my new life. This feels equal parts exciting and scary.

Page 194: Lately: Observations and Thoughts in the Form of Ramblings

I struggle with being socially aware and socially conscious. I stopped going to high school at 15 and didn't really socialize with people until I was 21 , so I constantly question whether I'm not being socially aware or socially conscious enough or if I'm being hyper-aware or hyper-conscious. With everything that has gone on lately concerning Charleston, Sandra Bland, racism and LGBT issues, I've depleted myself.  Twitter is a nice place to find like-minded people but these events and others have angered many people, as well they should. I still question my actions and motives and everything has snowballed and I can't even deal anymore because I can't turn my brain off.

I went on an interview for a new job on Monday. It's for another travel company, but this company is smaller and deals with business travel. It happened fast. I applied and after about a week or so,  I had a phone screening which led to the interview. I really liked the office as it was modern and everyone was really friendly. After the interview, I decided that I really wanted the job. Unfortunately, I didn't get it. I want to be sad about it, but I also think that there may be a bigger plan for me.

My younger brother has been promoted to sous chef and I couldn't be any happier to live vicariously through him.

See, my younger brother have taken some routes that I had either wanted to take or planned to take. He first studied journalism in college before switching to IT. Journalism was my true love when I was 14. He started working in food service when he was 17 or 18, after it was established that I really loved cooking. Seeing him do things I enjoyed and/or wanted to do makes me feel validated because I questioned my future a lot (and I still do). It's hard growing up in a family where you're the genius and then drop out of high school and then telling your family that you want to write and cook. Maybe I did something right and it rubbed off on my brother. Either way, I am so proud of him and couldn't be a happier big sister.

Monday marks the one year anniversary of Tym's death. I can't believe that time has gone so fast that it's already been a year since it happened. I feel alright for the most part, but his death feels like a shadow always following me around. I miss him a lot and it took me a while to get past the fact that I couldn't see him, touch him or hear his voice anymore. He may be been an asshole some times, but I would love to be able to call him up and tell him all about the good things that have happened and to bug him about coming to see me. I would also love to still be at my job, completely fine. It's not going to happen, though. What's done is done. I'm only afraid of how I'll be on Monday and if I'm heading towards a huge grief spiral.

Page 181: Here We Go

Composing the perfect post feels out of reach for me right now.  The most blogging I've done lately has been for my book blog and that is not as restrictive as personal blogging. All I have to write about is my thoughts on what book I've read, leave those feelings on the post and there you go. Here, I have to get personal and return to a semblance of a normal blogging schedule. It's moments like this when I'm super grateful that I am not an online based solopreneur and my blog is my main source of income because I would be homeless by now.

Things have come together slowly. I'm not as dirt poor as I was when I last posted, over a week ago. I had to do this interview thing in which I had to explain why I am no longer working at my job and after I explained everything that had happened, I literally sighed and bent over like I had just ran a race. I won a great victory of sorts and I'm grateful to God for winning. I'm so happy to have that over and ready to move forward.

I haven't been seeing any of my doctors and I'm at the point where I want to establish care with new doctors. I'm not happy with the ones I've seen and I really miss having a therapist/psychiatrist in my health team. My job didn't really allow a lot of space or time to see really good doctors so it's a great time for me to start working on that again. I had good doctors, great ones even and I will never forget how well they cared for me. I'm ready to get back to somewhat optimal health again.

I'm starting to feel an itch to be creative again. I did some edits on my book and decided to make it a New Adult book instead of a Young  Adult one. I love being a YA author but since I'm being realistic and honest, I can get away with a bit more with the NA genre without it being an adult fiction book. So, that's the direction I'm going in because I love the freedom.

Cooking has become a thing for me again. I did not do much cooking at all when I was working compared to what I did when I was off of work. It's been too hot at home for me to use my stove, but I've worked it out so my mom and I can eat somewhat properly. I have a lot of grilling magazines and I am fully prepared to use my cast-iron grill pan when it gets cool enough. Despite my home being able to hold heat, the weather has been pretty good. I think the rest of the summer will continue to be mild. I hope it will.

In general, I am still establishing a routine now that I have much more time on my hands. I'd been working for almost two years straight, so my life revolved around that until it didn't. I don't even remember how to truly relax, so I have to relearn it and go from there. I feel pretty good about it.

Page 170: The Detour

53 days ago, I wrote a blog post chronicling the events in my life for the past couple of years. I still have the posts available from that time, but I felt like I needed a clean slate, so I removed them from this blog, In my previous post, I left off on the fact that I was on medical leave and an episode of Grey's Anatomy had triggered a deep depression in me. 53 days ago, life was okay. Things are different now.

I returned to work in mid-May, but I would later find out that my FMLA had actually run out at the end of March. So, I had been out a month and a half longer than I was supposed to be out. I spent the remaining work days on borrowed time. I had a lot of phone calls with the human resources manager at work, but I told her that I did not want to be fired at the office and be walked out, which is humiliating. So, I spent some time at home until I finally got the inevitable call that I had been fired. I was affected by it but at the same time, I had absolutely given up on worrying if I would get fired. By the time the call came, I was so resigned to it that it almost was a relief.

This is a big detour for me and although the main cause of how I am right now is out of my control, I feel like a failure. My mom tells me not to, but I'm human and I failed at a job that I had invested almost two years of my time in. It also doesn't help that I am now dirt poor, which is also a bit of relief.

When Tym initially died, my mom wanted me to quit my job. When I received all of my inheritance, my mom wanted me to quit my job. I did not quit my job. My job was the one thing that I could try to control, even though I was no longer comfortable or safe there. My bosses didn't really understand that my constant asking of if I was going to be fired was part of my Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I don't even think they had been told, but maybe they should have been. Either way, irony reared its ugly head and I happen to get fired once my inheritance had run out. So, I'm scrambling and scraping, but I'll get back up. I promise you.

I also decided to leave school once again. My head is not into it and it's such a disappointment because I want to be engaged, but I'm just not.  I don't know what I plan on doing academically, but it's going to happen next year. I still need time to sort myself out.

On my birthday and again, when I was planning out my Design of a Decade, I had planned to take a year off and start working on everything once I turn 31. A lot has happened in the past year, so that time off sounds lovely right now. When I'm ready, I'm going to be working hard and doing all the things I love. So, this detour is temporary, and I can live with that.