The Artful Balance of Doing Things

I’m sitting in the living room with the oven on so that I can cook 2 chicken breasts and feel like I’ve done something with my life.

I’ve been sick. And before I was sick I was sad, and cold. My hibernating skills are on lock. I managed to accrue a new record of La Croix cans in my attic bedroom. 14.

I’m also sick of getting shit for liking the coconut flavor. If you think it tastes like suntan lotion there is clearly something wrong with your pallet.

I quit my former after work hobby so I could focus on what really makes me happy. The problem is,  I’m not quite sure what that is yet. I found that I enjoy both making a relaxing home and feeding myself and also being outside and having new experiences. As of late, I’ve had 0 motivation to do either. Hence the collection of water cans and why baking a single protein is the accomplishment of the week.

Is anyone else in a rut? When I daydream I picture myself the host of lavish dinner parties, wearing lipstick and playing thrifted records on my cheap generic Crosley while drinking fancy whiskey cocktails. Maybe with orange zest. That sounds right.

I imagine myself walking down popular well-lit areas of town, popping into shops and browsing as I please. Participating in the classes I pay for at the gym, sitting lake-side and reading a good book while proving to everyone I am capable of a tan.

I picture my life being full of experiences and memories. And right now. Well, it just feels empty. And it’s got me thinking that I must be doing this thing wrong.

So how does one get out of a rut and surround themselves with laughter and love instead of a mound of recycling and dirty/clean/maybe dirty clothes?

I’d like the blame a harsh Oregon winter for the majority of my problems. Perhaps my vitamin D is a little off. A tad more B-12 will do the trick. Maybe I spend too much money on flavored water and not enough on going to go see that new movie I’ve been wanting to go to. Maybe even though I just biked home from work in the pouring rain I should just man up and get my yoga pants on and go to that damn Pilates class already.

What is the artful balance of doing things? Enough to where you feel full but not so much that you are constantly too overwhelmed to do the dishes? Where you’re taking care of yourself but not to the point where you slam through a season of Top Chef in one night?

My funnest times used to be getting all my girlfriends to pile up on a patio, chain smoking flavored cigarettes and talking shit over a bottle of $5 Andre’s ultra-dry.

Now we’re all trying to be sober and healthy and vegan. (or some version of the three) but does that mean I have to sit here in flannel pants all night waiting for my oven to finally reach 425 degrees so I can have a chef salad for lunch tomorrow?

I say-eth no. And it is my new mission to figure out how to have fun while maintaining the integrity of my lungs and liver (or what’s left of them).

Stay tuned.

XOXO,

Milky