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  • Jillian Rose

I'm a Fraud.

"Oh mi god, I'm like so busy on back to back calls with the corporate office in Zurich." (Ew.)

"Ugh, I worked a 26 hour day to finish this project." (Sleep????!)

"Sorry, I haven't looked at my phone all day, I've been so swamped editing a quarterly corporate memo." (Not even sure that type of project even exists).

"Like, I forgot to eat today." <---- Hate those people.


You will never hear me say the above bolded statements. These are statements that burnt out millennials with a penchant for drinking a minimum of a bottle of wine per night and raging on the weekends say with pride, Covid or no Covid. I will quote my friend who said on a phone call recently, "My schedule is SO CRAZY during the week, like non-stop, and then on the weekends I just go balls to the wall and rage face."


I started to get anxiety during this conversation and reached for a Xanax, a beloved friend of mine. "Yeah, I totally get it, babe," I said to her, hopefully with some conviction as I spat out a blatant lie. This isn't a unique situation for me. I join in conversations similar to these with the participants wearing their obscene work hours as some sort of badge of honor. In reality, I don't belong in these conversations. I'm a total fraud.


Maybe since no one has a gun to my head saying I need to be at my desk by 8:59AM or die that I don't kill myself (haha) to work a 13 hour day straight. Or maybe everyone is lying and they're sitting at their desks swiping on Hinge or looking up keto recipes because, you have to be doing keto. Whole 30 was very 2018.


I'm writing this at 5:48am EST because I magically woke up and decided to seize my fucking Friday. But you know what? When I'm done with this, I'll probably go back to bed. Why? BECAUSE I'M not a machine. You overachievers could say that I'm even lazy. There, I said it. L-A-Z-Y.


Intermission: I finished the last sentence above and went back to bed and didn't come back to this piece for about.... three weeks.


Covid thoughts: To all those who somehow managed to LOSE a Covid-19 instead of gaining a Covid-15, kudos to you but, rude. I binged on grocery store grade wine (liquor stores were closed) and washed it down with endless bowls of Life cereal (I never said my eating habits were something to be modeled after). And to all those who somehow managed to write the next shitty/marvelous American novel, well ain't you precious.


You know how I furthered my writing career? Watching every single episode of "Vanderpump Rules" on Bravo. At least Stassi, Jax, Kristen, and the rest of the gang will appreciate my dedication. I guess there's nothing lazy about my enthusiasm.


My point is, why do we glorify busyness all the time? What's wrong with going through a phase where you literally are kind of a degenerate? When I've had jobs where I'm required to be "firing on all cylinders" all the time, I burn the f*ck out. And fast. Which just means extra trips to the shrink's office (or video sessions, more convenient) and it's still just annoying to go through the chemical rebalancing process.


Is everyone actually this "busy" or are we all lying to each other, or even to ourselves?


I'm not saying I'm a complete bum all day every day. It's just that there are lots of days where I stare at the computer and expect the emails to type themselves or the words for my writing projects to magically appear on the screen. And for some reason, the more I stare at the screen with complete and utter intention to craft literary magic, my sentences result in NYT bestselling excerpts such as, "Her shirt was blue. Her pants were black. Amazing outfit. And then Prince Charming Douche appeared. The end."


What if I gave myself permission to separate myself from these East coast perpetual hustlers?

Note: I use the term "East coast" because No one on the West coast has this attitude of working 17 hour days with a badge of honor, instead it's quite the reverse. Everyone brags about how much money they can make while barely lifting a finger. In fact, it's sinful to have a meeting before 9am.


What if I just started my own way of doing things? After all, it's not like I've conformed to climbing the corporate ladder anyway. I get distracted wayyy too easily to do that successfully. I have the attention span of a toddler playing with dried up markers.



See, I'm so distracted I just take selfies.

Maybe I can forgive myself for not being a complete productivity factory working against this concept called time.


Maybe I can forge my own path in this world and stop feeling like a fraud trying to walk everyone else's path.



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