You DO got this.

It's Monday again. The alarm clock goes off loudly, vibrating mockingly, next to my head. Groggily I hit "snooze" and can already feel that my eyes are swollen again. Why is it that I hit the ripe old age of 23 and suddenly I have skin issues, baggy eyes, and a grey hair that won't leave me alone no matter how many times I rip it from my scalp? When did I get so old?

Jason rolls over and pulls me into him. We both sigh. Then we spend the next ten minutes as we spend the first ten minutes of all our days-- trying to pretend that we don't, in fact, have responsibilities and can stay laying like this all day long. When the alarm goes off again, we both groan in annoyance, give each other a quick kiss, and pull ourselves out from the delicousness of the crisp, white sheets to feed the cat, turn on the coffee maker, and start our day. 

After washing my face and pulling myself together, I give myself my daily pep-talk. "Alright, Taylor. You can do this. You got this." Then that little voice... But I'm tired. I miss home. It's so cold here. "I know, I know. But you'll be home soon enough. Try and appreciate this time while it's still here because deep down you know that a small part of you will miss your big adventure. Now, baby steps... Pour yourself some coffee. Moisturize. Make some oatmeal. Curl your hair. Put a little make-up on. Choose something cute to wear. And smile... Today is going to be a good day."

I have this similar pep-talk with myself every single morning. Sometimes, it works. Others, it doesn't. Sometimes, I stay positive even when the snow rips parts of my car from itself, the train runs on a different schedule for whatever reason and causes me to be late to my first class, or even when I didn't check whether or not it was going to rain, forgot my umbrella, and didn't wear enough layers. Sometimes, I can even stay positive when the abrasive girl who always sits next to me in MIS (because she likes to copy my work) says something rude, demands I let her take a picture of my notes, and drops my notepad without saying "sorry" or attempting to pick it up. Sometimes, I can stay positive when my Econ professor gives me 0 on a homework assignment, a grade I clearly had not deserved, I try to talk to him about it, but because he's from New Jersey and no one here is allowed to be wrong or humbled, only gives me a mere 3 points for fear of completely losing his dignity. Sometimes, I can stay positive through all of that. 

Sometimes I can't.

Sometimes it hits me that moving across the country and going on this gigantic adventure has been a series of severe highs and severe lows. And sometimes when I ask myself if it's all worth it, I say no. But sometimes I say yes.

So... Then... What? 

So... Then... I keep moving. I work through the lows in the hopes that another high is lurking just around the corner. No, I don't mean a drug-induced high. I mean a life-induced high. Because that's what living is all about. This experience may not be everything that I had hoped. In fact, most of the time it's far from it. But sometimes... Every once in a while... It's so much more. It's more because I'm living. Maybe for the first time in my life.

And then, every once in a while, snow doesn't rip anything off of my car and it's a full 20 degrees warmer than yesterday. I surprise myself when 45 degrees feels "warm". I look in the mirror and see a girl who is brave, strong, and let her hair grow (finally). And it looks good long. Why did I never let it grow before? Sometimes I come across a rare happy, smililing, face on the train who takes my ticket and says, "Thank ya, darlin'!" And sometimes, on a really clear morning, I'll be sitting on the light rail and look to my left to find that glorious Empire State Building, standing as tall as ever, winking at me in the rising sun as if to say, "You DO got this, Taylor. You DO got this."

All for now... As always, thanks for reading.

Xoxo, 

City Girl from Cali