Monday, March 17, 2014

A Monday Soliloquy (or some such nonsense)

Because things have been so stressful recently...by the way have I mentioned how things have been stressful? Because things have been stressful!  I'm not sure the past nine blogs posts devoted to documenting my varying degrees of stress have adequately conveyed this...

Anyways.

Because things have been so stressful recently, my weekends have turned into these lazy and morose forty-eight hour long veg sessions where I drink entire pots of coffee, stay pretty much perpetually jammied, watch whatever whale documentaries I can find on Netflix, and think about what I used to be...

...kidding.  Well, somewhat.

I know I am always joshing about lying around and watching endless amounts of trashy t.v. but in actuality, reader, that accounts for less than 10% of my behavior.  Because I am a doer; I am a get up and go type of person and ever since I've had a job that has allowed for a weekend (the philosophical concept of one, if not for the actual thing itself), my weekends have been a sacred time of doing.  I'm not just talking about running errands; I mean daytripping, hiking, biking, swimming, running, playing, eating, and plenty of other gerunds, I'm sure.

So this weekend, as I settled into my third cup of coffee and my fourth episode of Sex and the City, I watched the sunlight steadily creep into my living room, first catching a toe, then an ankle and I felt the warm breeze waft in from the open balcony window and then, suddenly, I was overcome by a powerful realization: my time in Los Angeles is waning.

I won't always live a short mile from the ocean.  I won't always have an 80 degree Sunday afternoon in March to enjoy.

So I got up, grabbed my bike, and was out the door in 10 minutes.

I biked down Venice Blvd to Venice beach and took the bike path along the coast to Santa Monica.  (And before you say anything, I am fully aware that that last sentence made me sound like a character from SNL's the Californians.)

It was a lovely ride.

It made think a lot about the life I've lived here.

It made me have a lot of feelings.

But, to be fair, I always have a lot of feelings.

Perhaps most vitally though, it made me vow how I would use whatever remaining time I do have here (how long that is, I have no idea). I decided that each weekend, no matter how exhausted I am, I will get out and do at least one pleasant, non-errand related thing.  Because a month from now, a year from now, I don't want to regret not having done so.  And I know I will.

I'm not one of those people who says "live with no regrets" because I think regret is inevitable, even healthy in some cases; it means that you are being honest with yourself about your experiences.  If your life is one of no regret, it's one of no introspection.  So much of personal evolution stems from owning up to your failures, no matter how small or how great.

But this particular type of regret--of choosing idleness over adventure--is so avoidable.

So I am choosing evade this regret, since it's one of the few kinds I can evade.

And I am choosing to fight the inertia.

And I am choosing to ascribe a lot of meaning to this otherwise insignificant Sunday bike ride because--in case this wasn't sufficiently established--I have a lot of feelings.

P.S. If you want to submit this post on my behalf to a Chicken Soup For the Soul-esque collection of self-helpery and pseudo-philosophizing, I will allow it provided that I am appropriately compensated.

[Wink.]

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