Everyday I'm Hustlin'
By Steph Manuel of Astrobazooka
Also, you should know that this is how I think of myself.
Welp. Illegally played hooky on my work week blogging resolution yesterday. You guys, I had to watch Girls and Downton in my bed with my cat and a pot of tea. It beehooves me to be culturally relevant! You understand.
Another reason for my tiny truancy: it occurred to me yesterday that I was (and am) profoundly exhausted. Not exhausted in a satisfying post-marathon kind of way; or an understandable, insomnia-ridden zombie-Rose kind of way... or even in the glam way in which pop starlets back out of tour performances so they can quietly go to rehab. I am exhausted because I have not stopped thinking for a millisecond in months -- positive thoughts, big picture stuff, exciting future plans. Friends, I've been oozing eustress and caffeine from every orifice, looking for the next step before I even gain solid footing where I stand. Yesterday, a friend implored me to stop aggressively gesticulating and babbling like a Gilmore Girls cast member. For real. She told me to breathe and we just sat there inhaling, exhaling and blinking at each other for five minutes before I could get a grip on my Mario Andretti mind.
That's where I'm at.
Truth: I have some pretty far out dreams. I want to be known -- expressing myself and gaining a supportive following is important to me. But sometimes... sometimes I get so caught up in where I'm going, that I don't pay attention to where I am.
Most days, I wake up ready to hunt for new opportunities, ready to put myself out there. This morning I thought, this one time, why can't I just be a girl eating granola in the dark with her cat? Why can't I just be the asshole on the subway, using your reflective sunglasses to expertly apply eyeliner? Would it be easier to be present if I was anonymous?
Omg, that was such a Carrie Bradshaw question. I'm totally narrating this blog post aloud as I write. But seriously: I want to get sh*t done. I want a full, magical life. But I'm going to try a little harder to occupy the space around me instead of the space inside my head. I'm going to try to learn how to flick my werque switch on an off. And maybe I want to write a book and become a creative director and run my own business, but right now; I'm 26, I had wine and cake for dinner, and I'm posting my feelings on the internet. As it should be. Namaste.
Does anyone else feel like they never stop? Solidarity, G -- lay it on me.
XOXO,
Rose