Three.

So much for a post, a week, right? I’m not going to beat myself up too much. I started a third post weeks ago, but couldn’t find my voice or a message so I opted out. Now I’ve found myself in a mood today, so what better way to piece together my thoughts, hopes, and fears from the past four weeks than with a therapeutic writing sesh.

Many small things have happened during this short hiatus. I’ve been consistently giving myself manicures, which is always a positive. I was able to visit NG’s Magazine division to see where they design the layout of each issue (April’s edition looks very promising). I’ve been cooking a lot, which has been healing for my soul as much as it has been for my bank account. I’ve been adjusting to this *real* autumn weather which is incredibly beautiful and wonderful, but at the same time, I’m not sure how I feel about the many hours I’ve drooled away thinking about microplush blankets, fleece socks, and hot pumpkin-infused beverages. I’ve attended an intimate meeting with the Vice President of Research, Conservation, and Exploration and essentially pitched potential television programming that I’ve been thinking about for the past six years to which he positively responded and will probably end up taking credit for. Yes, just a few things have happened during the past four weeks of this new life of mine. Most of all, I’ve touched on larger ideas about life, death, and purpose in just the past week alone.

With my time interning at Nat Geo almost halfway over, I can now confirm that post-graduation life is, in fact, as confusing as it ever was. A part of me yearns to be reunited with the West Coast as I see one of my oldest friend’s growing belly and realize I have no idea at what month in age I’ll be able to hold her little boy. There is another part of me that wonders if I’m selling out my adventurous spirit by applying to office jobs assisting people with very small perspectives of the world. These are the kinds of things that I sit at my desk thinking about, and even sometimes quietly cry about, as I consolidate data and make tables of information I’ve been researching. These are the kinds of things that have put me into this mood. What am I supposed to do…?

Most people don’t know, but my middle name is Jane. Usually most are surprised by that, and the only reason I don’t really mention it is because it doesn’t serve any other purpose than being a filler. It also ruins the alliterative power of the hard ‘K’ sounds of my first and last names. I won’t bore you with the etymology of Jane like I did with the rest of my name from my first post, but I will say that my plain Jane name reminds me that I am just a person. I can be just this anonymous Jane and not have the weight of the world on my shoulders every moment of the day. I don’t have to feel like I am entering a trap of society’s restraints and what they expect from me. I can alternate from following my heart and playing my part within the grand scheme. I don’t mind putting on the suit and tie because I can strip it off at the end of the day, or at any moment for that matter. I am only human. We are only human. So we might as well be a little bit more forgiving.

Since there’s never been a lullaby or love song written about a beautiful girl named Kim, I’ve always had an affinity for the classic song, ‘Sweet Jane’ written by one of the greatest guys to ever put pen to paper. I’ve been listening to it since yesterday morning on repeat, so there it is below for you too.

You know that women never really faint,
and that villians always blink their eyes,
that children are the only ones who blush
and that life is just to die.
But anyone who ever had a heart
they wouldn’t turn around and break it.
And anyone who ever played a part,
they wouldn’t turn around and hate it.

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Three.

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