10 Things You Must Get Rid Of In Order To Succeed
1. The significant other who you can clearly tell is secretly resentful of your success. Like, if you’re mostly nervous about letting them know that you got that promotion or that raise because they are going to feel ~threatened~ and inadequate, it’s probably a sign that they’re weighing you down. While it’s totally understandable that you can be frustrated by your own career problems while your SO is flourishing, that should never be a reason to put them down so they feel just as badly as you.
2. Your Tumblr. I am saying this as someone who finds herself unable to break free from the razorblade-studded Venus Free Time Trap that is that website, but I believe that you’re stronger than me. Because I know that once that scrolling starts — that sweet, sweet scrolling — you are doomed forever. It will literally become your primary reason for living. Literally.
3. The friends who are not interested in working hard or progressing in life, and get kind of weird and judgy with you if you do. They are bad, and you know it.
4. Your bong. Now, I’m not saying you can’t smoke a little wacky weed every now and again and still be a totally productive member of society. (Of course, I would never smoke drugs because my grandmother reads this and I’m too high on Jesus’ love to ever consider supplementing it with illicit substances.) But if you have a bong, that is just way too much dedication to the weed. Roll joints, it’s way classier.
5. Your janky looking “professional clothes.” While you’re more than entitled to wear your yoga pants and Uggs on off days (though you should know that God hates you for it), your office wear should at least reflect a certain level of seriousness. If you’re rocking the button-downs with Nutella stains and suit pants about two inches too short, you’re never gonna progress. You’re just not.
6. People you hate-follow on Facebook. There is no more apt description of the term “wasting your life” than scrolling through the photo albums of a person you can’t stand IRL to give yourself some weird jolt of hatred juice. It just erodes the psyche, and redirects the time that could otherwise be used successfully into something that only drains your soul.
7. Your too-high expectations about what your career should be. I think we all start out with the best intentions, honestly. We’re like “I’m going to be making 50k a year working at this awesome job filled with great people that is both ethically rewarding and permissive of a casual, fun-filled lifestyle.” I don’t know, maybe we thought we were gonna go work at one of those cool, Google-esque offices who want their employees to have fun so they fill the place with free bikes and pinball machines. That’s not going to happen, though, so it’s better to just prepare yourself for “How exploited am I going to allow myself to be at this internship?” It always ends up being the choice you actually make.
8. Weeknight outings. There will always be exceptions, of course, but for the most part they’re going to have to go. And it sucks, because your friends who work evenings or are still in school/unemployment are going to give you shit for it. They’re going to act like you just punched their mother directly in the face when you tell them you can’t come out for the usual Tuesday Night Karaoke and Meth Bonanza, or whatever you used to do. It’s going to be ugly. But you have to wean yourself off of it.
9. Crappy breakfasts. You think that the difference between freebasing a Pop Tart while running to the bus and having a balanced little plate of yogurt, granola, and tea isn’t going to be that big. But it is. The second you’re in that 11 AM meeting and your stomach is eating itself inside out and you’re wondering if your boss at the other end of the conference table can hear it/thinks you’re farting, you’ll know. And you’ll realize just how important all of those “nutrients” and “vitamins” actually are.
10. Unmotivated roommates. You either get rid of them now, or devolve into the person who stumbles out of their room screaming at 3 AM on a Wednesday, in a coffee-fueled fugue state, because Brad in the room next door won’t turn down his dubstep-fueled sex sessions long enough for you to get a few hours of sleep. Don’t let them make you that person, get rid of them now.
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It started with a right swipe, a little green heart. Tinder of course.
Though I acknowledge and appreciate the differences in human experiences, and while your heartbreak is (and always will be) uniquely and completely your own, I must urge you to consider that I have been where you are.
With his hat cocked back, body tilted away from his cane, and right forefinger pointing directly at his audience, Joseph Ducreux commands the attention of those viewing his self-portrait.
I was born in 1990; he was born in 1973. I’m 23; he just turned 40.