Millennial Motivation

One of the many things that my FitBit does that I love (#notsponsored by the way, as if I needed to clarify) is offers “Sleep Insights.” When you look at your sleeping pattern on the app, there’s a little box that usually says something generic about getting better sleep or offers an average data point like “people your age usually get 6 hours of sleep per night.”

But sometimes, Dear Reader, it praises me. And as a millennial, I NEED THAT. (At least, that’s what the Baby Boomers who hung out with one twenty something and tangentially figured out the internet have been telling me.)

So the other day, my Sleep Insight was basically “you’ve done a great job this week with a consistent wake up time!” and I’m like HELL YEAH. It’s the little things, really.

Screenshot_20180117-075140
Note: That Wednesday night I got an INSANE amount of sleep because I loaded myself up on melatonin and sleepytime tea and went to bed super early to stave off sickness.

And then you can “like” or “dislike” the tip, and if you like it, well, let me just show you:

Screenshot_20180117-075150

IT’S SO CUTE, AND I CAN’T LET THE MOON DOWN.

So I won’t. I’ll keep going to bed consistently (not at 6pm, don’t worry) and being a super good adult and getting the right amount of sleep and be rewarded for it not through anything tangible or actually important, but via a cute little image on an application. And is that really so bad?

Maybe it actually would be bad if it were telling me I was doing a good job when I wasn’t, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. FitBit routinely tells me thing like “looks like your sleep pattern is off, no wonder you’ve been feeling like shit recently” (well, not exactly that, I did say “like”) and in general I can be pretty hard on myself in my mind anyway, so this little bit actually helps. Like for real genuinely helps.

Generation Y (born between about 1980 and 2000) takes a lot of shit, probably because we’re the first generation to be growing up with the internet so every fucking thing is so public and anyone can hop up on their soapbox to bash anyone else. It’s also got to be hard to be from a previous generation and to have suffered under elders silently, just waiting for their turn to be the authority and then to have that last beacon of hope taken away from them by uppity youngsters who demand bullshit like “equality” and “work-life balance” and “pumpkin spice lattes.” But I think the most pervasive dig at Millennials is that we’re lazy and require recognition for even the littlest things.

First of all, it was you fucks who handed out the participation trophies in the beginning, so I don’t know why you’d talk shit on the very thing you created, but what-ev-er. Also, you gotta realize that there were real-world rewards back then that don’t exactly exist now: tuition is up 150% and homes cost three times what they used to while Millennial salaries are 20% lower (adjusted) than when our Baby Boomer counterparts earned at the same stage of life.

But more importantly, I think we should take a look at why requiring recognition irks some people so much. The concept of shutting up and keeping your nose to the grindstone, doing more than your fair share, never questioning, never proposing new ideas, and above all else, NEVER complaining just seems so unhealthy and very much the mindset of someone who is either already in charge and happy with the status quo at the detriment of someone else, or someone who has never been in charge and feels like if they suffered, then everyone else must as well, neither of which are appealing–not to me at least.

There’s so much we can all learn from one another, and nothing can be learned in a world where questions aren’t allowed, and I’d argue that friendly incentives or inspiration are only helpful, so I’m going to keep loving my little moon friend in lieu of a debt-free college experience and call that fair. I hope that’s okay, but what do I know, I’m only 30 (and a half).
Advertisements

The Liberation That Comes With Asking Questions

I suggested in my how to not fuck up 2018 post that if you want to make any kind of change in the new year, you shouldn’t be afraid of asking for help, and I think part of that is just in general asking questions.

This may only apply to me because I’m a god damned weirdo, or more broadly to people with anxiety, and probably also people who were praised a lot as a kid for being smart, but hopefully some of you will be able to identify with this sentiment: I used to be terrified of asking questions. Like legit sweat dripping, red-faced, fluttering heartbeat, all that bullshit at just the thought of asking someone what something meant or how to do something. With the ability to look back now, I know I was afraid of looking stupid or being a nuisance, not to mention my underlying fear of just speaking up in general, so the thought of doing any of that threw me into an almost instant panic attack.

Thankfully, I didn’t need to ask questions very frequently because I was very well rounded as a kid and inquisitive on my own. I watched a lot of (adult) television so I was exposed to many things that I was lucky enough to retain, and I had access to the internet from the time I was about eight-ish, so I could easily look just about anything up (granted it was significantly harder 20 plus years ago!) From doing my own research and basically never taking anything at face value, I quickly learned that people believe in a lot of things that just aren’t true, and since I was privileged enough to be exposed to so much, I was super judgey as a kid when other kids asked questions that I already knew the answer to, so I had a very “damn, I don’t want people to feel that way about me!” mentality.

That changed when I was in college and tutoring English and writing. I worked with so many different students, kids fresh out of high school, people in their fifties coming back to school, English as a second language students, and students who had a really great grasp on writing but knew a second set of eyes on their work could only help. Sometimes, especially early on in my tutoring career, I’d use words or phrases with students that they didn’t understand, and they would sheepishly ask my to clarify. Almost every single time they would then apologize for not knowing. This kind of knocked me for a loop because while I felt the same way these people did, embarrassed to not know and apologetic to bother someone for an answer, when I was being asked–when I was on the other side of that experience–I very passionately believed they should not be embarrassed or apologetic. See, I knew these people, I knew they were intelligent, and I knew their stories, and for the most part they didn’t know certain things because they never got the chance to know them. I quickly adopted a “no stupid questions” policy, and was always quick to admit to them when I didn’t know something, but we always had a laptop handy to look anything up together.

It still took me some time to cultivate my own ability to ask questions because you cannot reason anxiety away, you just have to fight through it, so while I knew it was okay to not know something, I couldn’t get over that sweaty, scared feeling. I flopped like a fish on dry land over that hump one day when the tutoring lab supervisor, my boss, called me “reticent.” I didn’t know what that word meant, and even though I was in front of him and a number of my tutoring peers, I decided that was the best time to break myself, so I asked. And you know what happened? Nothing.

He thought for a second, defined the word, then we all moved on. I didn’t feel like a moron, and no one tried to make me feel stupid either. Of course, this isn’t everyone’s experience, and since then I have had literally dozens, maybe hundreds of times where I’ve asked “what does that mean?” or “what’s that?” and been met with the dreaded and incredibly unhelpful, “You don’t know what X is???” But let me tell you something: if someone says that to you, you look them right in the eyes and say “No, I fucking don’t.” Chances are they are just being a self-centered prick and are reveling in the fact they’re a gatekeeper to some kind of knowledge and are superior. They probably don’t get to feel that way very often, so just pity them and then google your answer, showing them they really are as useless as they just proved themselves to be.

I find myself now asking “what does that word mean?” most often because I love words and want to collect as many as possible in my tiny brain. I rarely feel stupid asking questions, and I rarely judge other people for asking “dumb” questions. And even if I do think a question is stupid, I work really hard to not let it show on my face and to explain everything. I think I’ve kind of perfected this after working in IT for the last almost two years. And to those of you with anxiety that I just made this worse for: don’t worry. I don’t associate that once time Susan in accounting asked me how to copy and paste with Susan’s intelligence forever especially not if she retains it and uses it going forward. There’s hope for us all!

And now I realize: I CAN KNOW SO MUCH MORE. WHY WAS I SO DUMB BEFORE? The thing I was afraid of being I actually made myself into being by not just asking questions when I should have! And I feel so fucking free.

So ask questions. Don’t be afraid. If someone acts like you’re dumb for not knowing something then chances are they’re actually pretty stupid, or at least mean, and in either case unworthy of you caring what they think about you. Free yourself and learn some shit.

A Question For You (seriously, please comment)

Let’s do a creative exercise, shall we? This is a game I like to play with Husband on occasion, but I’ve elaborated here a lot. You don’t have to post your answers, but by god would I love it if you did.

Tell me about yourself. Not current dimensional timeline you. Tell me about you in dimension 104-D where alternate reality you is a pop* superstar. I want to know the following:

Your stage name or band name (or both!):
You music sounds like a mix between these two artists:
Instrument/s played (voice counts):
First Single:
World tour theme:
Compilation album title:
Name of another famous person you’re rumored to have hooked up with:
Name of the musician you do a Christmas duet with AND the song:
Name of the film or TV show (can be fictional, but please elaborate) you inexplicably guest star in and the role you play:
Your favorite candle scent:
That time you fucked up but everyone forgave you for it because you’re so damn awesome:

*Pop = popular, not pop music per se, BUT IT CAN BE.

Questions Only A Cat Can Answer

Why are you so obsessed with the toilet?

Even after the great plunge of two ought seventeen, you still insist on challenging a one-handed me to keep you at bay.

How can you differentiate the toilet from, say, the couch? Both are sat upon, both are read upon. How do you know this seat is special?

Why do you want to lick the edge of the toilet bowl? Just…why?

Do you think that you pitiful whining when the seat cover goes down will actually change my mind? Oh, of course, kitten, let me just leave this up for you. That’s a great idea.

Why don’t you have enough self preservation to NOT jump onto a surface that is sometimes actually a hole?

How is the sound of a urine stream so mesmerizing?

Where do you think the hole goes? Are you convinced we’re keeping something from you? A magical fun-time world that is, for some reason, at the end of tiny tube filled with water that makes horrifying noises?

Is this obsession going to end? Should I enroll you in some sort of 12 step program?

Kitten, are you okay?