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Glimpse of Average: First World Problems

Updated on February 23, 2016

Hi, my name is theebs I am an unemployed young college graduate with a science major.

I lived in NY most of my life and I am irrefutably, a New Yorker. Black coffee and Brooklyn style pizza run in my veins and nothing will ever change that. However, in series of unfortunate circumstances, I moved to NJ with my family and quit my dead-end job at a dental office that barely paid me anything to be alive and moved to a quiet, small town in NJ that has been apparently established WAY before the Declaration of Independence was signed. Apparently.

First thing you should know about me is that I am a city girl. I was born in metropolis city of Seoul and grew up in Queens with frequent trips to the City for Halloween Parade, Fourth of July parties, New Years Party and such. I like to go out a lot. I took advantage of the fact that I had such a vibrant and diverse city accessible at the ease of a subway ride. I went to the city at least 2 times a week. I loved absorbing the bustling energy enveloping this tiny concentrated strip of land and I loved how the hazy, faded city lights at the end of the day glistened across the Hudson and radiated warmth and comfort, as if it were telling me, everything is going to be okay.

But everything was NOT okay because now, I'm stuck in the suburbs of Jersey with no car , no friends and no money with parents grinding my ass on what I'm gonna do with my life. Every. Day.

This exact situation is an epitome of a living hell.

Now, granted Jersey is not that far from New York and there are ways to go to the city by taking the NJ Transit bus. But the act of moving to another state that's not the Big Apple, terrified me. I grew accustomed to seeing naked guitar people in Time Square, street performers dragging you to be a part of their new choreography and seeing drunk people doing projectile vomiting to the subway doors; yeah, I'm willing to embrace that. In fact, I'll even camp next to Pimp Daddy Joe under the Central Park overpass with newspapers and dig through trash. ANYTHING was better than moving to Jersey. My life was coming to ruins. Then I realized.

Holy Shit. This is a First World Problem.

I was blessed enough to have a roof over my head and a family to depend on whereas people all over the world have ailing illness that tortures them on a daily basis. People in warzones are unwillingly exiled and neighboring countries shunned their entrance because they came from warzones. I complained and acted as if I lost an arm where people REALLY do lose an arm of a leg because they are at war, even in 21st century. There were bigger and much, much more important problems the world has to deal with instead of my bratty unwillingness to move to Jersey.

Truly, I was being an overdramatic ungrateful bitch. I didn't want any changes that would drastically bring me out of my comfort zone. In turn, I was acting out as someone who took things for granted that I didn't realize how fortunate I was.

So, is it just me? what are some of the first world problems that one can encounter? Is it justified to think that complaining about first world problems is fine because it is a norm in today's society? Where do we draw the line in complaining about the comfortable life we are living?

Ugh, I think I need a beer and go to bed.

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