Disclosure

I've been toying with this post for a few days, writing it in my head on the subway or waiting for a bus. As much as I'm dying to relay the same kind of messages from my current job as I did from my last, I feel unbelievably guilty about disclosing exactly what's going on, or even where I'm working. It's all so sensitive, and it gets more real everyday. I'm an impostor there, and already have the feeling that I can't do much to help these girls. I can't relate to them, I can't ever truly understand them.

And then I try to wake from my melodrama. We had a long talk about disclosure today, the point being that at some point, the girls may want to discuss their situation with me. I am told that I have to be ready to handle it. Me. The girl who has already cried at her new job (tears of joy, because I got good news about my family while sitting at my desk). I have no idea what I would or wouldn't do, put in a situation that I merely write about on paper to solicit money. It's the kind of thing that in my world can't possibly be real.

I started listening to Ingrid Michaelson who, as it turns out, I totally know. We went to college together, and had lots of friends in common. We went to the same parties, and unknowingly gossiped about the same people. It is really weird to find yourself singing the songs and quoting the lyrics of someone you used to see perform in the dining hall. But I will anyway:

"I want to change the world, but instead I sleep." This is from "Keep Breathing" was featured heavily on Grey's Anatomy. Normally I'd say something snarky about that, but if there is one thing that Grey's does really well, it's drive home a scene with good music. Her song "The Way I Am" was in an Old Navy commercial, but I have issues with the video because of all the clowns.

So other people feel this way? All of the good intentions with none of the energy. Or good intentions leading to exhaustion because you feel like nothing you do is ever enough, like you'll never make a dent.

I had dinner with my best friend today, who I haven't been spending nearly enough time with. The theme of our meal, as if meals ever actually have themes, was DON'T FEEL GUILTY. About not having money, or moving to Chile, or leaving Chile, or being happy that you have the apartment to yourself, or that you don't speak Spanish anymore, or that you really like Grey Goose and won't drink well, or that you have a nice phone. Sometimes you need a nap, or can't get to the gym. Sometimes you just don't know what another person has gone through, but you listen to them all the same.

All you can do is try.