Maybe it’s time to stop aspiring to be like Andrew WK and just go full throttle.
Man, I talk a good game about how I ooze positivity, but at the end of the day I’m really just a joyless buzzkill. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Sitting in rush-hour traffic. Dealing with a five-year old who refuses to take “no” for an answer. These things wear me down and harsh my mellow.
But they shouldn’t. Hey, if I can commit to writing every day for 100 days (and counting), I sure as hell can commit to be a well of positivity for that same duration. I’m going to party hard, but not for reals. It’s more like life is the party, and I have to stop being the dude who sulks in the corner.
Day one starts tomorrow.
That moment when you realize you can’t let your dreams be dreams, or something
My mind tends to wander. I imagine the tattoos I’ll (probably) never get. I picture myself running an ultra marathon in Death Valley or becoming the next Stephen King. I could take a vacation from reality and try to live those versions of myself in the vast recesses of my head space. But then it occurs to me that the only thing separating the person I am now from the one I daydream about is my determination to close the gap. And that’s equal parts scary and exhilarating.
Realizing when it’s time to stop and take a deep whiff of this little thing called life
I move too fast. Maybe it’s the coffee, my obsessive compulsive tendencies, or the fact that I have the attention span of a toddler with a room full of objects to taste, but I feel like I’m always running through the forest, missing out on experiencing each tree.
Take dinner tonight, for example. We were having In N Out burger because the I-10 was a nightmare (as is tradition), and I only made it in time to pick up my daughter from her afterschool program because Apple Maps found a route that took me through a residential neighborhood and around the airport. Continue reading