So many things I should be doing, but I just want to celebrate the day.
Yesterday, I was leaving a friend after a quick fro-yo brownie work break. She stopped me, “You get down on yourself a lot and it kind of bothers me.”
I stopped my self-depreciation and paused, “Oh, really?”
She explained to me that I have a lot going for me. My educational achievements, my job, my living situation, my friends, my family. I was a little embarrassed to be called out, but also thankful, grateful.
I don’t do enough to celebrate the life I have. I don’t do enough to live it. Just live it. I’m always looking for the story, getting caught up in the twists and turns, rather than following them. Rather than waiting to see where they may lead. Rather than taking it all in stride, like that walk to Salkantay.
I stopped with a student yesterday, and she unloaded her weekend pains on me. I gave her my phone number and a hug. Don’t worry, I wanted to say. This too shall pass. Just live it. This is for you. This is yours. Own it.
Yet I can’t detach from my own.
I broke my weeknight rule last night and went to 9p trivia at my favorite Irish pub. I sat with coworkers I like, who make me shoulder-shake laugh. I got rambunctious and rowdy and only smoked 1 cigarette. I came home to bed and woke up still feeling that high. Proud of the people I know. Proud to be here. Wondering why I can’t relax and let all the days be like this. Deciding as I stood in front of the mirror and brushed my teeth that today will be a good day, regardless of my lack of sleep. Regardless of the hours ahead of me. Each hour, I will live. Each hour I will confront, face, expect.
I will make something of the day, because it is mine.
Aunt June-ism: “Tomorrow is the longest day of the week. It has to be because of the things we are going to do.”