Who Says?

Ever since I graduated from UCF in December 2011, I've felt there's been a level of success I'm forced to live up to.

You go to school for 17 years of your life in order to graduate with a bachelor's degree in a subject that you love. You then immediately apply for as many jobs in your career field as you can find available and hope to land one. Once you've been offered a job, you are to enjoy it and stick with it for years to accumulate experience and a resume builder. 

That is how I've come to view the world post graduation after learning how so many of my friends and acquaintances have turned out so "successful."

But, who says that this is the path I am supposed to follow?

Who says I'm supposed to immediately find a job after college and love it?

Who says I'm supposed to stay at said job for years until I'm ready to take my career to the next level?

Who says this is what happiness is?

I was very excited and fortunate to land a job in my career field soon after graduating. I was a newspaper reporter, and the vast amount of knowledge and experience that I gained at that job still baffles me. I was at the job for about six months when I started to realize that it wasn't for me. Of course, my family wasn't too happy with my decision, but it was after all, MY decision. I cried on the day that I gave my two weeks, and on the drive home on my last day of work, and a couple weeks later on my drive to a new job that was located past my old job's site. I honestly miss the people I worked with more than that job. I was blessed to have co-workers that felt like family from day one. (Shout out to my awesome Destin Log fam!)

So, pursuing a career in magazines felt right up my alley and I was for sure this time that I would stay with it for years to come.

Three months later, I was done with that job. Shocker, right?

It wasn't all about writing for the magazine. It was 15 percent writing for the magazine, and the other 85 percent, working as a PR rep for a marketing company. Both were steady job titles of mine, but only one truly made me happy. Being happy 15 percent of the time doesn't cut it even if the money is good. I can honestly say that money does NOT buy happiness. It just doesn't.

After going through a rough time, trying to figure out what made me happy in life, I turned to a career that was a hobby of mine as a kid for 11 years—gymnastics. Of course, there are still some stressful days at my job as a gym coach (what job isn't stressful sometimes?) but I finally found what makes me happy before going into work, during work, and after leaving work. How many people can truly say that about their job? Once again, my parents were shocked. I had a job that didn't have anything to do with my degree that they paid for. But, who says I have to have a full-time job in writing?

I also write on the side for a local magazine, but it's no where near the amount of work that I would like to have in order to keep my writing abilities well polished.

One day, I'll get a phone call from a publishing company or a magazine, offering me one of my dream positions of freelance proofreader/copy editor or freelance writer. But until then, I'm going to enjoy the jobs I have now and view the path that I've taken to get to where I am today as a learning lesson. Everything most definitely happens for a reason. Whether you view that reason as positive or negative is up to you. 

If you are constantly comparing yourself to those around you that are your age and successful with their fancy full-time careers that they seem so content with, then you are viewing the lesson negatively. Who cares what others are doing with their lives? If they want to be successful, congratulate them. If they want to rub it in, delete them off of Facebook. ;)

If you have the strength to step back and look at your past as something that has molded you into the person you are today—the person who has put themselves through so much to try to find what makes them happy—then you have the positive power to continue to grow as an individual who will find that one day everything will click. Whether that day comes this year or ten years from now, is all a part of the journey.

“The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it's all that matters." 
- Audrey Hepburn

My happy place. I'm sure most would agree with me.

                                   

Password Pains

My apologies go out to those of you who follow me on here. If what I'm about to tell you keeps you from returning to read my future posts, then I completely understand. But, try not to hold it against me too much...

Since I haven't been as good about creating new posts as often as a regular blogger should, I finally got bit by the blog bug last week, and was ready to share my thoughts with all of you. There was just one tiny problem—I forgot both my username and password.

Of course, this issue could have been easily resolved if I'd have written this information down when I first created my blog, but that would be what the Jordan with common sense would do. Apparently, I was lacking that on the birth day of Greener Grass, Louder Laughs.

To my dismay, I tried for all of 20 minutes to access my account, typing in any and every username and password that I could imagine possible for me to have created. It was hopeless.

Yes, I gave up and almost saw it as a sign that I should just be done with my blog. I wasn't keeping up with it anyways, right? Wrong.

Something inside me clicked today when my brother began experiencing trouble trying to log into his Xbox Live account. I thought it was funny at first, knowing how much it bothered him that he couldn't play Call Of Duty or whatever crazy zombie game that was the peak of his interest at the moment. But that feeling was short lived when I was reminded that I too was having log-in issues with my blog. 

I got back on my computer, ready to face again all of the embarrassing red error messages informing me that I had entered either my username or password incorrectly. Making me feel as if I was trying to hack into my own account. So I tried. Again and again. Then, I gave in and clicked on the lovely blue words that totally diminished what little pride I had left in at least trying to recover my password from the depths of my mind—can't access your account?

Reluctantly, I clicked on the question and was taken to a page that asked for my gmail username. Um, hello? I don't know it. After typing in an incorrect username, I was taken to another page that gave me the option of choosing that I'd forgotten my password. I clicked that option. My computer proceeded to inform me that my password had been sent to my gmail account that I didn't know the name or password for. Good one, Google. 

After a few more failed attempts at submitting the incorrect username, a page popped up that asked me to submit an alternate email address that I would have included with the creation of my blog. So, I typed in another email and hallelujah it worked. 

The moral of the story is write down every username and password that you've ever created and will ever create. Or end up like me. Username-less. Password-less. Pride-less.