The night of my 33rd birthday, I was having margaritas with my boyfriend (Eric), plus my three former housemates from Sherman House (please watch all 10 episodes of "The Sherman House Webisodes" for free at www.shwebisodes.com).
I told Linsay, Ted, and Adam about my new experiment with blogging. They were all hugely excited for me and supportive of this new endeavor. But the name, they did not like the name. Heck, I did not like the name. "Leilerz in ColHi"?!?! Ugh. Lame. And what does it even mean? (Nothing) Oh, and I even got the nickname of my beloved neighborhood wrong. It's not "Col-Hi", it's "Co-Hi". Like Soho, but CoHi. No "L"! Ugh, I couldn't even name my blog right.
But it's true. I can't. I suck at coming up with names and titles. I've never been able to give a title to an article, a story, or any work of art. I suck at naming. If I ever get knocked-up, I will probably do a Gwyneth Paltrow and name my kid "Apple". Thank goodness my parents are better at coming up with names than I am.
Anyway, my former housesmates helped me come up with far superior titles. And this is how "Nominal Expectations" came into existence. This will be my new home for all my joys, my miseries, but mostly, my bitter loss of faith. Not religious faith. I'm taking about the loss of genuine optimism. I used to have it - genuine optimism. I used to think that the world was my oyster and that the law of attraction would bring great success and abundant adventures into my life. I used to believe that, for a long time.
And for a long time, the universe did manifest my hopes and dreams into reality. But then I burned out. All those great adventures and dream jobs were fun, but none of them paid the bills. And now, I have a job that pays the bills. And I dread going to it every day. And that's life. Work sucks. That's why it's called work, right? Cry, and get over it. Think of delicious food to binge on, because at the least the food provides momentary happiness. Unlike the job. Right?
Nominal expectations. This is me giving up. I am an administrative assistant in a property management company. But hey, at least I don't cry every day. And this is as good as it gets.
Nominal expectations. This poem is by William Martin.
Night-night,
Leila
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