Life is not all yachts and luxury vacations
Here’s wishing my life could be as glamorous as the spam clogging my inbox appears to suggest
Sometimes I wish my life were half as exciting as the bots who spam my inbox seem to think it is.
No Nigerian princes messaging this gal with a long lost inheritance. Nope. The messages I receive daily, hourly, by the minute assume I’m already rolling in dough. They point to a life of excess, where money is not a thought and my days are spent lounging in luxury pools on Mediterranean villas. It must be because I work in the glamorous world of Hamilton media.
Why, just this morning I received messages with the subject lines: Private Jet Charter! Luxury Yacht Charters! Greece Vacations! Italy Vacations! Swiss Chalet!
Oh well, that last one is more chicken than European ski trip, but you get what I mean.
I’ve never actually opened any of these thoughtful messages (except Swiss Chalet, obviously) because I’m a bit afraid that one click will unleash a Pandora’s Box of viruses and the like. And even if they are legit ads for luxury yachts and European vacations, I’ll just sob into the lunch I packed from home because I’m trying to pay down/off one too many online shopping sprees.
(But I really, really needed all of those things, OK? And one day I might even wear some of them.)
Anyhoo, it got me thinking about why I started receiving these in the first place. First, the network security on my email and website is obviously set to We Accept All Viruses 24/7. But in the past when I have tried to adjust it, the filters allowed the jet charters and Italy vacations and dumped emails from real people into my junk folder.
And no, I’ve never gone shopping for luxury yachts or jets on Google, even on a late Friday night after I’ve had too much wine, so that’s not it.
So while I assume that the Private Jet Charter emails are the new inheritance from the Nigerian prince and everyone receives them, I’d like to think that somewhere, out there, a robot has been programmed to target me because of what they imagine is my fancy, fun-filled, super-thrilling life. Someone somewhere maybe possibly might think that I have it all figured out.
(On a different note: who else is excited about Season 2 of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” on Netflix, starting April 15?)
Have you ever walked down Locke Street or sat in your f avourite f ancy taco joint downtown chowing down on some fancy tacos when you spot a couple that makes you want to give up on life?
They are impossibly cute, happy, cool and casual but not sloppy like they just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever pants were closest to the door. And despite the fact that they are toting several small children, they appear rosy-cheeked, refreshed, smiling.
I’ve seen this. And I’ll dust the crumbs from sweatshirt and think to myself, “Wow. They really have their @#$% together. How do they do it? I’ve got undereye dark circles for miles, small cities are being built in the pores on my face and all I’ve done today is walk the dog and run a few errands. How can they have so much energy?”
But life is not a series of yacht rentals and luxury vacations (for most of us). And it always surprises me when people say things like “They have the perfect life!” or “They’re so happy all the time — everything is great!”
Nothing is great for everyone all of the time — some people are just better at hiding the stuff that isn’t perfect. So let’s stop beating ourselves up for not always having everything all figured out, OK? OK.
At the end of that day, that couple will put their kids to bed, breathe a sigh of relief, and will catch up on “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” just like you.
And me. Next week!
So let’s stop beating ourselves up for not always having everything all figured out, OK?