Dear Minneapolis, I’m (Kind Of) Sorry My Google Calendar Has Made Me a Hermit Crab. Maybe Next Year.

By Molly Klima

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Dear Minneapolis,

I’m afraid to say that the end of July is approaching and August isn’t looking too good for you either.

I know, I know, we made all those plans to hang out in my hammock, and see all those parks, and spend day after day on your numerous beaches reading books that have been on my shelf for, like, ever, but here we are. I realize now, in retrospect, that I may have filled up my calendar (again) but (like every other year before this), I am only halfway sorry.

I mean, yes, my time appears to be eaten away by two classes, my internship, a part-time job, and a budding student group, but you know that I thrive best in chaos, buoyed up by caffeine and the thrill of productivity. Besides, I’m learning important things this summer. Would I have liked to spend months of my life doing the whole urban exploration, every-day-is-an-Instagram-photoshoot thing? Maybe. But honestly, Minneapolis, I think it was more important for me to have this summer, my first summer alone in a large city, dictated by my painstakingly color-coded Google Calendar, and here’s why.

 

1. It has taught me to prioritize.

And not just whether or not I work on my essay or my design project first. This summer, it became quickly apparent that I also needed to learn to prioritize time for myself as well as time to hang out with my friends. Making an effort is necessary in any kind of relationship which is, if anyone asks, the reason I spend my Monday nights watching The Bachelorette now… without the incentive of a bracket competition.

 

2. It has taught me the difference between work… and work that you like.

There is a huge difference between doing work for the sake of doing work and doing work because it’s what you love. People have been telling me this for years, but now I understand what all the hype is about. Even though I feel like I have a never-ending to-do list by noon every day, half of the things on it are - dare I say - fun. For the longest time, I was committed to being an overachiever and slamming my schedule for no other reason than the fact that I thought I was obligated to, for one reason or another. Yeah, we’re never doing that again.

 

3. #Long-TermAdulthood, baby.

It’s one thing to live on your own during the school year and call your parents every week. It’s another thing to rattle around your half-empty apartment by yourself and have to keep canceling your trips to the cabin with the fam. My schedule, full though it may be, is much more flexible and dependent on my decisions without a full semester of school to guide it. Hello, self discipline. Hello, time management. Hello, lingering guilt about still not exercising.

 

4. I am, actually, having fun.

I promise I am not lying this summer. Maybe it is the fact that I’m doing work that I love or appreciating the people I care about in a different way or the fact that I really do thrive on chaos and caffeine, but this is an unexpectedly fun summer. Minneapolis, I’m sorry (not sorry) but I’ve got no reason to change the system that’s working right now.

 

5. I know this summer will matter.

Despite how prone I am to letting myself get worked up about to-do lists, I can always calm myself with the knowledge that this summer is important. It’s one more step in my transition to real, working, #CareerWoman adulthood, and the macro skills I’ve listed here, as well as the micro, industry-specific ones that I am learning through all of my work will matter. They will matter as soon as September rolls around and I start class, and they will still matter twenty-five years from now, when I have developed workplace habits.

Minneapolis, I know it hasn’t been exactly the summer we planned it would be. I’m sorry my hammock is gathering dust, but I swear, I did breathe fresh air for, like, a whole two hours when I went to see the Aquatennial fireworks the other night. I won’t apologize about my GCal though. She may be a little uglier than normal, but it’s not anything our codependent relationship can’t weather. And, I promise, I’ll clear out my schedule more next summer.

Maybe.

 

Laura BeierComment