Fortunately, a few months ago I started really thinking about how I don't need so much stuff. It is crowding my life and distorting my perception of what is important. I’m not quite ready for the 100 Thing Challenge, but I’ve made enough trips to Goodwill to prove I mean business. My house is steadily becoming airier.
So the less stuff part of less money should be okay.
But what if there is enough time in the day? What if there is a feasible chance of getting things done and I don’t?
If my household remains unorganized, if I remain overweight, and if I achieve none of my creative goals then I have to contend with some unflattering realizations. Realizations like: I am lazy, I am undisciplined, and I am unmotivated. That sounds really uncomfortable. That sounds like I’d have to admit to being a failure.
You know that old anti-drug commercial where you hear a little girl’s voice saying, “when I grow up, I want to be a ballerina” and it shows a woman spinning around all high and then you hear the voiceover say, “nobody says, ‘I want to be a junkie when I grow up.’” and then she falls down? Yeah, it kind of feels like that. Not the drug part, but the failure part. The part where you had dreams of what you would do when you grew up but you didn’t do any of them so you might as well be a crack whore.
I DON’T WANT TO BE A CRACK WHORE!
Crap, maybe I should just keep working. No. Because this is my chance to take the bull by the horns, to brush the excuses aside and to make it happen Cap’n. Silverpixels, feel free to unleash the gnats.
So if, in the next six months, this website shows no evidence of pottery or gardening or cooking or blog posts or any other creative endeavor, well, at least crack whores are skinny.