Perfect ideas have certainly gotten us into enough trouble. Communism, Utopias, Subprime Mortgages. Fun times. Searching for perfect people is why we call hopeless romantics hopeless. It’s also why we have online dating. And divorces.
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 musing
Perfect ideas have certainly gotten us into enough trouble. Communism, Utopias, Subprime Mortgages. Fun times. Searching for perfect people is why we call hopeless romantics hopeless. It’s also why we have online dating. And divorces.
Some days, you like a challenge. Other days, you don’t want to struggle. Whether they’re hanging neatly in your closet, in a heap on the floor, or thrown over the back of The Chair, I know they seem like an insurmountable challenge right now.
Yes. I’m talking about putting on pants.
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.
We’re all craving a “detox,” but maybe it’s not to cleanse our bodies of nonexistent “chemicals” or to throw our phones off the Empire State. Maybe we just need to dump a day’s, or a lifetime’s worth of Little Things onto something besides a motion sensor. It certainly sounds less attractive than “Green Goddess” or “Australia, Disconnected.” I won’t get any dates by telling my friends “I’ll be your liver.” That’s definitely not sexy. But I can tell them that I’m fine with them cleansing their day’s memories with me. So Hey. How was your day?
(Credit for cover photo goes to the very talented Todd Shaffer)
“I don’t think you understand. You want me to tell you when you’ll be sitting in your economics class. I’m trying to tell you I don’t know if I’ll let you stand up tomorrow. All I know about your future is that it comes one day at a time.”
I’m not a fan of saying words changed my life, but that one sentence truly did.
From that morning on, Masha (who probably liked 5-Year-Plans and little red planners as much as Mao) refocused the lens she used to see her future. I see “Today.” “Right now.” Usually a “Tomorrow,” but beyond that, who knows. I can tell you that today, at 5 PM, I’ll be writing, or doing Law homework. I can also tell you that “Next Month” pages in planners make me uncomfortable, no matter how much pretty lettering and how many stickers they’re decorated with.
“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.