Day 9260

I figured my fourth first blog post shouldn't be "Day 1".  I don't have a lot of luck with "Day 1s".  Usually by "Day 9" I'm over it.  Except today.  Today, I have been alive for 9260 days.

I have been in love with the man of my dreams for a total of 1152 days.

I have been employed at a pretty rad company for 407 days.

I have been an author of a successful blog for 5 minutes (not counting the blog as it was established previously under the same name).

When I think about it in terms of days, it seems like I've accomplished so much.  But some of those days were wasted on anticipation.  Always waiting, always wanting.  I remember being 9 years, 11 months, and 29 days old, just waiting to turn 10.  Or better still, turning 11.  My birthday fell on Thanksgiving that year for the first time since I was born.

I remember graduating high school, only to anticipate flying to Hawaii with my school choir a month later.  Only to return and immediately start packing to leave for college three months after that.

I'm now waiting once again.  But this time, I'm waiting for life to slow down.  I'm waiting for success.  I'm waiting for my dreams to come true, to be taken seriously, to find the right time.

But what is the right time?  What exactly am I waiting for?

I spend too much time in the present thinking about the future and the past simultaneously.  I spend the last few suspended seconds before sleep thinking about the "what ifs" and "why not MEs".  The purpose of this is to serve as an exercise in helping me stay present.  On some occasions, it will serve as my escape.  On others, it will be my goal-setting tool.  The only thing I ask in return is motivation or positive thoughts.

I fail at a lot of things.  Not necessarily fail.  I don't accomplish tasks.  I constantly start things but never finish them.  Sometimes I think I just set myself up for failure before I even begin.  I expect to fail.  I didn't finish college.  I didn't finish massage school.  I have a pile of unfinished knitted things in my wardrobe.  I track my calories for exactly as long as it takes to consume all healthy foods, then out of shame or guilt, I quit.  I quit going to the gym because I refuse to lose that extra half hour of sleep because that means I'll be sluggish and grumpy the rest of the day.  I've stopped posting about my jewelry business on facebook because a coworker told me that I'm a "pusher".  And now I'm contemplating excuses to not make my business work for me.  I don't even finish folding my clean laundry because I'll just end up wearing it at some point in the week.  Even as I type this, I'm putting off what I really COULD be doing - which is making dinner.

I start tasks, then I start coming up with the best excuses to not finish these tasks.  Someone very wise told me through facebook, that you can either have results or excuses.  And excuses don't create success.  And she's right.  I have to find ways to make things work for me.  Even if I do get upset that I still don't have my schedule for the rest of April... or if I don't have enough hours away from work and school to accomplish something (which is exactly 10 hours, 8 of which are used for sleeping)... or if I don't have enough money...

You know how it goes.

So although I'm spending my 9260th day on Earth contemplating what I should be doing all the rest of my days on Earth, I'm using it to escape from my crazy reality of waking up, getting ready, traveling to school, walking two blocks to the bus stop, hoping the bus is on time, walking another block to work from the bus stop, occupying my time there with small duties for the day until it is time to close, traveling the half hour it takes to get home, cuddling with the love of my life, and drifting off to sleep only to repeat the same thing 8 hours later.  Occasionally, I get an afternoon off.  But in 53 days, I will have a bit more freedom.

But until then, I'm just waiting.