I might as well put it out there that I may very well occasionally be eight going on eighteen. I probably consume far too much coffee and far too little chocolate. I refuse to carry umbrellas and I haven't the foggiest idea how to use nail polish. Now that confessions are over - I'm glad you're here.
All tagged goals
New Year’s is a time when we tend to think a lot about the stories we’re going to open 2019 with. As the clock struck midnight, we tell the tale of How Much We Actually Really Love Going Clubbing or of How We’ve Always Loved Stilettos More Than Sweatpants. The next morning, we’re going to tell the story of How We Got A Sixpack. Or of How We Stopped Wasting Our Time Watching Netflix. Or Stopped Drinking.
I've been told once or twice that I could play Alice in Wonderland, and I guess we do have some things in common. We both have long blond hair. She falls down rabbit holes; I fall down the black hole that is Wikipedia. We both sometimes drink things we probably oughtn't. And, if her musing is true, then we're both expert-level when it comes to giving ourselves great advice and not actually following it. So... this is Late. I have no Very Important Date. But, dear Hypocritical Masha- here is a report card for you.
Things I’ve always been itching to try, things I can’t get out of my head, desires that are hard to calm, those topics I want to jabber endlessly about to someone. Perhaps when desires stop being watery drops of sudsy, vague, unclear ideas that reside in a bucket and start being burning, impossible to ignore, occasionally frustrating itches, I’ll finally stop being so patient, and just scratch. A little Rash decision making is good sometimes.
As Masha walked to the subway station that morning, she realized that it’s been an awfully long time since she’d actually gotten a report card. And that’s a pity. In a way, I almost miss the adrenaline rush that came with handing over the Scary Manila Envelope to Mama and Papa, hoping to be deemed worthy of whatever science kit was the pinnacle of my desires at the moment.
So I figured I’d give myself one. Don’t worry, it’s 100% Serious and Legitimate. I used a red pen and everything. So, Masha, here it is. I’m handing this to you the same way I’ve slipped transcripts to my parental unit for years now: here’s the report, and here’s my personal disclaimer. Something about how the barometric pressure outside hasn’t been ideal for cognitive function. Maybe there have just been way too many Thursdays lately. You know, I’ve just been really, really busy.
“Random Acts of Kindness” remind me a bit of another kind of “Random Act” that I perform all too often. Let’s call them “Random Acts of Productivity,” shall we? I’m sure you can relate, or at least I sincerely hope so. It may be 3 AM and that paper may be due in four hours, but suddenly I’m the Housecleaning Hero. My floor needs sweeping! That month-old email needs answering! I must check my stocks! My notebook sits unopened on my desk, but you’ll find me in the kitchen making effing quinoa salad for tomorrow’s lunch. I’ll feel great looking at my spotless living room for a few minutes. Maybe feel a little less guilty for wasting the entire day doodling. But, really, I’m just avoiding something. Random Acts of Procrastination.
They say “Growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional.” I think. Or, is it “Growing up is mandatory, but growing old is optional?” I’m going to be honest - I have no idea. I’m sure a quick google search could give me an answer, but perhaps it would be nice to leave myself one question that I could still try to answer even if my wifi is down. So, I flipped it around in my mind a few times. Once upon a time in the long-gone days of four years ago, Masha learned something about converses of statements. Now, a not-much-wiser Masha’s on a subway train wearing a pair of obscenely dirty Converse. I know what either means - someone else can prop open a logic textbook, and Buzzfeed can tell me my “Shoe Personality.” I’m just going to think.
Even someone as blonde as I am knows none of these mean anything without more concrete goals and accountability, and I've got some wonderful reality-checks in store for future Masha, so that ought to be fun. I'm honestly just very, very happy to be alive this year, and to have the ability to worry a little less about that being a given.
HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you. If anything, you can always resolve to stop hanging around people who make New Year's resolutions.
