Writing is something that I have always thoroughly enjoyed.
Don’t let me mislead you, this doesn’t mean I am good, I just really enjoy it. It has been an outlet for me and my thoughts, a way to really express myself when the stunned mullet look on my face just won’t do. The words are there, but they simply will not appear.
This is not for anyone in particular; in fact, I have no intention of anyone even reading this but the thought of putting myself out there has a certain appeal. Kind of like some reverse-voyeurism, which quite possibly isn’t even a phrase but hey, that doesn’t matter here.
At the time of writing this, I am 38 years of age. I have a daughter to my first wife and a son to my fiancé who has two-step children, both girls. I have a fiancé who I am madly in love with, stupidly in fact. I get all foggy headed when she pops to mind and I need to snap out of it to get my thinking back on track. Then I chuckle to myself because I repeat this process at least twice… Like I have done, just now.
I work in a job where I am not satisfied. I have experienced depression, drug addiction and reliance. I have sought out clinical help and won. I am regularly confused with simple issues and solved much harder ones. I am slightly over-weight and at times out of control. My favourite word starts with “F” and against everything I am told, I wish I could drink more than I am allowed. I am oddly comfortable in awkward moments and relish a stubborn debate and hearty laugh at your expense.
I believe I am truly normal.
Let’s give this a crack.
What is this statement all about?
Ever since I was a boy I have heard the popular saying of “you have got to stay busy”. I long for extended periods of time, where I do not have to make decisions or help anyone or be busy. I hate being busy, I want to slouch around and do bugger all thank you. I actively try not to create projects for myself and yet day in and day out here I am continuously doing things and helping out, many not at my choice and mostly for other people?
So why is this?
Here are the facts. In my home I have four children and a fiancé. I have no extended family in the local area. I am part of a team of seven in my office and hold a senior role. I try to keep only a small handful of friends. In reflection it shouldn’t be hard to stay “un” busy?
The list of “things to do” grows daily and sitting on my butt at home for more than half an hour leaves me with a guilty taste. In a moment of weakness, I found myself lying down on the couch yesterday in the late afternoon taking a luxurious self-indulging few moments to myself. I had fallen prey to my pride. I had just finished a five-hour stint of focusing on my families Sunday outing of parks, prams and cola fueled excitement in the CBD area. I was proud of my intense effort and rewarded myself with the comfort of our couch. When I heard my partner walking down the steps into the lounge my instincts told me to “GET UP YOU LAZY BASTARD” so I actually jumped up and tried to look busy, in hope of not scoring another job or increasing my feeling of guilt.
And then I laughed. Because I AM MAN and I’ll do whatever I god damn want to do! Well at least I told myself this in my head, I actually told my partner what I just did and we both laughed.
It really is ridiculous but for some odd reason there is a little voice in me that says “you can do better, move it move it move it, work harder, be more, do more and never stop spreading yourself thin”. Really quite negative but oddly motivating when forever being in catch up mode. Of which, as an average guy doing average things – I am ok with being in catch up mode all of the time. Its easier in a way.
I have concluded that it is my right to always try to find the short cut and in fact, I’m really good at it and will continue to hone my craft of short cutting. I even enjoy this game.
Bring on the busy life.
It’s a funny thing. Well, not funny like “haha” although sometimes you need to laugh these things off.
I find it is like a shadow that stays with you. Sometimes you see it and sometimes you don’t but you know it is there. Lurking. Some days you take a second look, thinking you could spot your shadow and other days maybe a quick step out of sync to try and lose it completely but no, it seems to stay attached.
Some days the shadow is long and daunting and other days it is so small it is nearly under your foot. I like those days; those are great days.
People call me an extrovert but I know I’m an introvert. I am typically outgoing, I have created a career where I need to be bright and bubbly and engaging every day. Do you know how bloody hard this is to do? It is an act, I have found that over the years, I have perfected the art of happiness. I can look and sound like a ball of energy on the outside and on the inside its doomsday. More often than not I am barely able to keep my shit together.
But here is the kicker and I’m told it is a sin. I’m proud. I am full of pride… there you go. I said it. I won’t let myself get beat down. I have a big beautiful family and partner who simply delicious so how could I let myself get beaten. I find I pick myself up for them more than myself so would not like to think about what would happen if they weren’t around.
I exercise and eat well. But it is my short bursts of writing that give me small perks. I already feel better.
Yay for me.
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