Sunday, August 26, 2012

Sunday Sadness

Why are Sundays so sad?

It's almost as good as Saturday, in theory. But Sundays hold a special kind of sadness. They represent the end, for many of us. The end of freedom for another 5 days.

They represent our mortality.

I am sure there are those with exciting and rewarding jobs who don't feel the Sunday blues. I am not one of these people. My job isn't bad. But it doesn't fill me with excitement. It just is.

So here I am. Feeling sad on Sunday. Partly it's my fault I suppose. I have been alone all day. I did go out last night, and the night before, and the night before that.  I suppose a break is in order. Which is why I didn't push to do anything today. I worked a few hours. I had planned to go shopping, but that seemed too daunting today.

Heh. I'm intimidated by the mall.

It is large, crowded, and loud. And it will take your money if you aren't careful. But the worst thing about it is the infinite number of choices. Of decisions. And I've never been great at decisions.

I like everything. I want to buy everything. I cannot prioritize. My pleasure meter is clipping. And I need to recalibrate.

Mainly I just want some more v-neck tees, and a new pair of sneakers. Possibly basketball shoes that look decent with jeans.

AIR FORCE ONES

But really, I just want to fill the void. The emptiness that fills me on Sundays. Maybe a sneaker, or a drink with friends, or a football game will do it.

Or maybe not.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Chocolate is for Eating

I once took a tour of a chocolate factory. It’s not nearly as interesting as you think, and it actually turned me off of chocolate for a while. But what you notice, or what I noticed, is the people who work there. Surrounded by the most delightful substance to ever be eaten, these poor bastards were the most miserable looking sods I had ever seen.

And I’ve seen a lot of miserable sods in my time.

Hell, I used to be a miserable sod. Still am, on occasion.

But the thing I’m trying to say is that being surrounded by life, as we all are, can be difficult if you never eat the chocolate. It can be painful, and miserable, and downright unseemly. So unseemly that some people check out of the chocolate factory early. The sight of chocolate becomes so unforgivingly painful that they have no, or at least feel they have no, choice but to end it all.

When instead they could just take a bite. Just one. Or two. Sure they might get fired. They might be shunned and banished from the life they knew.

But life is for the living. And chocolate is for the eating.

So eat up my friends.

(note: I have never been to a chocolate factory. This was a pure fabrication. Super duper sorry about that)

Friday, August 3, 2012

What's this? A post, silly.


I come from a family of grinders. We work hard, keep our heads down, and grind it out. Enjoyment and happiness are immaterial. Our work is a grind, our play is a grind, our life is a, you guessed it, grind. And we grind until we are ground down to a nub. And then we decide to start living.

My parents instilled this idea into me at a young age. Grind, do your homework. Grind, do your chores. Grind, you will have to go to college, so that you can get a job like us and grind it out. Because you will not enjoy it. But you must grind in school so that you can continue grinding at a job for the rest of your life. They never stopped to think about the actual consequences of their teachings.

Or the logic.

Why should any sane person want to grind for the sake of grinding, for the opportunity to grind some more? When does the grind end? To my parents, never. Though my mom appears to be seeing some daylight.

Lucky bitch.

I am still stuck in the grind mentality. Even though I do not work as hard or as focused as others in my family (my over achieving brother for one) I still feel everything as a grind.

Even when I have some free time to myself, I still feel the need to grind, or feel guilt for not grinding hard enough.

But I sit here writing, grinding, hoping that this grind might not be such a grind after all. Sure, sometimes you have to grind the words out. But often you are rewarded with a sense of accomplishment, a deeper understanding of yourself, and an increase in writing skill. So that maybe, one day, I won’t be grinding anymore. I’ll be working, but drawing some enjoyment from it because I’m doing something fun, interesting, and creative.

What should I do now? My Grind Mind is telling me to exercise, to work out. I just purchased a kettlebell to do just this. And I will. Because even the Grind Mind is right once in a while. Physical fitness is a positive attribute.

So I learn to focus the grinder at things that I won’t enjoy, just so I can get through them, and they in turn will give me strength to do things my true self wants.

My brother may have learned this lesson early on, but it has taken me some time. I imagine I will keep learning, but for now this will keep me going. Thank you great spirit of the universe, for opening my eyes, albeit slowly.

Now get out there and grind.