Shut up Kanye, this isn’t about you. However, I do feel like the amount of effort I’m putting into this write-up is on par with Yeezus’s effort. Sorry guys, I’ve been busy.
Part I: Tempus Terminus
Speaking of busy, the 2 bar charts below explain what that means. After spending over 3 years in Chicago, I finally received my first full-time, salaried position in late April. What this meant was the delightfully free and pants-free days were behind me as I began making daily commutes to the office. I traded stability for flexibility, and I felt like I needed to perform. I began working longer-than-healthy hours because I wanted to prove my worth and I wanted to be the very best (like no one ever was). The chart below shows how my time allocation of a typical weekday changed.
And this one shows the typical weekend.
I was stressed out and not having a lot of fun. As a result, I set a lot of the fun things in my life aside. Cooking. Video games. Social events. It sucked. But, as everything has a silver lining, I have honed my shade-throwing skills to previously unimaginable levels.
Yesterday, I got home before 6:30 PM and that felt like such a victory. I’m setting my boundaries; I’m protecting my time. I want to be back to see your faces next month.
Part II: Discarded Baggage
Oh, by the way, I also moved last month. Out of the old…
… and into the new.
During the moving process, I got rid of a lot of stuff I no longer needed or wanted. These were among them.
belong belonged to a CouchSurfer I hosted in 2012. It’s an old story that has since lost its relevance to both of our lives. I don’t know what’s inside, and she doesn’t quite remember either. These bags had already survived one move, but did not survive this one.
I think we have a tendency to hold onto memories we think are important. In turn, we hold onto things that remind us of those memories. If you asked me now, I can still tell you why our time together felt important, but I’m also ready to stop carrying her baggage as I begin a new chapter in my own life.
I still don’t know what’s inside of those bags. I rather enjoy not knowing. Those of you who know me know how insatiably curious I usually am, but this is one of those rare occasions on which I deliberately chose to keep myself away from available information. Maybe it has to do with the boundaries of personal privacy, but maybe I have simply found the bounds of how much I truly care to know.
Thus concludes A Month Of… Boundaries. And we usher in A Month Of… Dreams: Find the Stuff Fiction is Made Of. We encourage you to come share your stories at the live show! If you post a story about the task in the comments here, you get into the show for free.
A Month Of
Stage 773 1225 W. Belmont
Wed Sept 9th 7:30-10:00
$10 free with a posted story or shared dish