I’ve been getting a lot of hate mail recently. Mainly because I don’t have time to go to the bar and pound PBR’s with the best of the worst. Or because I don’t have time to go sit on someone’s couch and pound Coronas while watching The Deadliest Catch. Or because I don’t have time to sit around in a circle and gossip about people. Or honestly, because I don’t have time- period- for really any one single person… except for me.
The last couple of years have been a roller coaster of me trying to get my life on some sort of productive path. Unlike many, I decided to take my time and wait for this process to start happening instead of jumping in right after high school, but the benefit to that is now, it’s happening naturally rather than being forced.
The masses are pissed.
I’ve received many a text/Facebook message/phone call/whatever method needed declaring a person’s utter frustration that I have no time to hang out. This, in turn, frustrates me. I am not blowing people off because I am out shooting heroine or trying to pick up dudes in the same bar over and over again or hiding in some form of anti-social misery. I am out trying to make my life more full.
As of right now I’m trying to schedule a week around:
- Going to school to eventually- hopefully- drop out of the restaurant business for all eternity
- Taking swimming lessons and brushing up on zoology and biology in preparation to one day train killer whales (That is not a joke.)
- Involving myself with a knitting circle so that I can make the sweetest leg warmers ever
- Taking hip hop dance classes so I can clear the dance floor and impress the public with my moves
- Spending at least 8-10 hours a week at the gym and at least 2 hours doing yoga, burning, toning, and perfecting this physique that is coming so close to resembling that of a Greek Goddess
- Scheduling fencing lessons so that I can learn the fancy footwork of the sword master
-Being involved in and writing for the Hubbard Hall Writers’ Project, head by Jon Katz; a project I am both humbled and honored to be a part of
- Trying to keep this blog on a regular schedule (That is not working so well…)
- Volunteering at least 1 hour every week, no matter what that entails
- Oh, and working. You know, to fund all of these things and pay my bills
Add in finding time to get my dog out for walks, general upkeep and maintenance of both myself and a house, preparing meals, dance parties, personal reading, personal writing, and that dreaded thing called sleep, and it doesn’t leave me much time for well… anything.
And that is just the beginning; it seems every week something new pops up that I want to squeeze in! … and I love it.
I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. I wake up every morning happy, energized, awake, and living. I wake up early when everything is still hushed and quiet (save the rooster that lives a couple houses down). I plow through my day, occasionally stressed, but mainly proud of myself and how far I’ve come. And finally, I go to bed feeling tired, but accomplished, aching for my first cup of coffee the next day that will start life all over again, a repetitive- but always different- twenty-four hour cycle.
As I said earlier, this has been a very up and down process. There have been months at a time when I have become overwhelmed and sunk into what I like to call my ‘pauses.’ A pause for me is the time when I pretty much work and drink and that’s it. I wake up hungover, go to work, get out of work, drink, pass out, and then continue the same useless cycle over and over until one day, I snap out of it. I hit the start button and life continues.
These pauses are usually spawned by hate mail from my friends. Or the changed relationship status of a dude I have to continuously remind myself I’m not in love with. Or learning that my friends are sitting around saying mean things about me to each other. (Uh, no, I am not in high school.) Or the Yankees losing a game. Or not being able to write for weeks at a time.
But I’m not going to let it happen this time. As I’ve been pushing myself these passed couple of years, I’ve always had the thought you’re not actually going to do anything with yourself, Becki, lurking in the back of mind. That’s a dangerous thought and a hard one to remove, but somehow, I managed to erase it. For the first time, I don’t hear it. Instead I just hear compliments like my god, you’re beautiful, you just kicked that workout’s ass, that was the best sentence ever written, you changed that kid’s life today, your crunking is ill yo, just keep knitting, just keep knitting, just keep knitting, amongst many, many other things.
I’m going to be something. I know this. Maybe not the President of the United States or a famous movie star or the MVP of a sports team, but something; something worth being.
Side Note: I’m totally going to forget the little people. That’s a promise. The only people not worth forgetting are the big people who are helping me become bigger and better myself. Little people? Send me all the hate mail you want.