Courtesy floating robes
Courtesy Floating Robes

I hate whining. I loathe making excuses. When I break down emotionally and start blathering about why I can’t keep my shit together, I feel like a petulant 4-year-old, throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his way. I’m an adult, I should be able to just roll with whatever abuse comes my way, shrug off the anguish and just do my job, right? Isn’t that what everybody else does?

I’m not sure why my brain is wired like that. I don’t know why I get at such odds with myself. People get hurt and go through rough patches all the time. There’s nothing new about it, and it’s nothing that should cause an over-abundance of shame. Yet I struggle with it. Even now, I find myself getting distracted far too easily rather than hashing this out.

It’s hard not to feel like a good portion of my time has been wasted over the last few years. Sure, I’ve learned a lot about corporate culture. I’ve made some very good friends and I have at least some salvageable work experiences. However, I’ve taken “work where I can get it” rather than really trying to cultivate my actual core skill set. I’ve “gotten by” rather than applying myself to a craft that I both have some real talent in and feel good about producing. I’ve tried to cram it into narrow gaps of time and opportunity rather than making it my primary focus. I’ve been untrue to myself.

I think that’s where a lot of my angst comes from. I know I am, in essence, wasting my time. And time is a precious thing. Life could end at any moment. Traffic accidents happen every day. Everything from falling masonry to leaking gas can be fatal. Hell, I could drop dead at this keyboard right now from an undiagnosed blood clot in my brain or something. I am keenly aware of the fact that we only get one shot at making ourselves the best version of ourselves we can be, and I’ve been failing in that for the better part of a decade.

Now and again, that version of me does break the surface. And even when I’m wrapped up in the obligations and distractions that I allow to impede me, I try to be informed more by generosity, justice, and duty rather than frustration, spite, and rage. That doesn’t always work out for the best, and I know I can’t expect brownie points for trying. But I do try, dammit.

I can’t undo the mistakes in my past, be they big or small. But I know the past me is dead and buried.

The future is unwritten, but I hope the future me is better than who I am today.

All we really have is right now, this moment. And I feel like I’ve been letting more than a few days go unseized.

That’s Carpe Diem for you Latin/slogan nuts.

And yes… I suppose “YOLO” applies.

I’m just so very tired.