An Ode to Not Bitching Out.

It has been longer than I like to admit since I have last posted. This is because I have a job again. More specifically, it is because I have a job that requires me to wake up at 5:30am, commute for about 2 hours, work until about 6:30pm, then commute another 2 hours home, getting me in the door at 8:30pm. For a simpler, clearer picture, that means I spend 15 out of the 24 hours in a day just trying to get paid. Get. Paid. Beyond that, I have to work on commission until I have proven myself worthy.

There are several negatives attached to this situation, as anyone might imagine. One of the more serious downsides is that my iPod is old and about to crap out on me any day now. Even pretending that the battery life will last 4 hours is laughable. Yes, I could read or knit or even strike up conversation with a friendly face. But, none of those alternative activities are going to save me from the one thing my iPod can: hearing sick people on the train.

Every time I hear the guy two seats behind me cough or take a strong sniff of whatever's about to leak from his nose, all I can think of is what kind of eviler version the evil he has released into the relatively small, closed space we're sharing will evolve into once I, inevitably, inhale it. Ew. Ew ew ew. But I digress.

This routine I have willingly put myself in is, undoubtedly, an uphill battle. There are so many moments in a day when I just want to bitch out. Quit. Call it a day or a life or whatever. Look myself hard and long in the face and say, "Gab, I know you have a college education, but your body won't look like this forever and well it's just a body and you like being naked anyway. And the money. Money for being naked. They can look at it as long as they don't grab it right?"

Then I have to remember that the reason I am putting myself through this is because it is a great opportunity. Don't bitch out. Don't do it.

There are other times when I want to bitch out. Like when I'm tired from my stupid job and pigs fly and someone wants to socialize with me. And I think about how tired I am. I am so tired. But I always force myself to do it because, well, I will only live once. Yes, I just said that. You will only live once, too.

Or when I'm scared of something and I know there is an easy way to avoid confronting my fears. I always think of doing it (AKA bitching out). For example, my old job called me two days into my new one and offered me my position back. That would have meant easier hours, not having to dress d-bag professional, and a paycheck with the same number on it every time. That made bitching out sound as enticing as watching Intervention in my underwear on a worn in couch with a couple of slices of cold pizza and a cheap bottle of wine. Which I have never ever ever actually done. Psh, me? No way.

But when I really had to make the decision, I knew I'd be choosing comfort over growth. Moving side to side instead of forward. Maybe you are thinking I am an idiot. I have thought that as well. However, I suppose in this case, as it is in most cases when I end up not bitching out, the potential splendor involved in the risk outweighs the comfort cushion.

Just so you know, having this attitude keeps me in a constant state of anxiety. I am always nervous. So much so that I cry once preemptively in the morning and once at night just because even if I can't pinpoint what it is, I'm sure to either go through or have gone through something awful every day. It feels terrible and I hate it so much. Really, I loathe it with every cell of my being.

But every now and then, something fantastic happens. It seems that those are the only things I remember when I think back. I feel like the theme song from The Wonder Years should be playing right now. Actually, here: The Wonder Years Epic Theme Song. Ok, now click that link and re-read this entire thing. Wait, no, start from "There are other times when I want to bitch out." Yeahhh.

I think I am feeling embarrassed right now.

I guess I should just get to my point. I think it's pretty clear. Apply every cliche you've ever heard that sums up to, "Nothing good comes easy." Or, in the year 2011, "Bitching out never got a player nowhere." If, in any facet of your life, you want to be a baller, shot caller, or both, you just have to take it as it comes, full-on. Be scared, but don't bitch out.

If you bitch out, you miss out.

Someone will probably use that to peer pressure a teenager into trying drugs. Shit.