What does it actually mean to work your hardest? Not to just work hard but to work your hardest. What do phrases like ‘giving it your all’ and ‘working your arse off’ actually mean? I’ve heard people say these things a thousand times and I may have said them myself once or twice in my life. But honestly, I didn’t mean them. Because I have never worked that hard in my life. I’ve given anything from 50% (the bare minimum) to 100% (actually applying myself ), but 110%? Pouring my blood, sweat and tears into something? No, not really. Not in school or work or love or life in general. How do people even do that? Is there a course I can take? An app, maybe?
I’ve been reading a lot of online stuff lately, like Creative Nestlings – which makes you feel both in touch and out of touch with the Arts scene in the country, meh – and I’ve noticed how some people are really keen on improving and enhancing their craft. When it comes to my writing, specifically my novel writing, I turtle. I do dumb things like keeping manuscripts to myself and not trying to get published then complaining that my genius is going to waste before retreating into my 9-5. So goes my turtling. And I think the most messed up thing about it is that I only noticed this week that I may have chronic slacker disorder.
A lot of my friends have been achieving some pretty impressive things in the past few months. Wonderful things that I am so proud of them for. But this is always after they go into some sort of hibernation for a few months as well. It’s like they hide out to put their master plan into place and then they emerge months later having conquered their Everest. And I’m always just like, “Wait, wha – ? Wow.”
Why haven’t I ever been able to be super serious about something and work super hard? Why do I always cruise through stuff and get pretty good results instead of drowning myself in them and getting the best results? I don’t know, because comfort zones. My one friend once told me that I’m afraid of success. That may be it. When my first play was staged in Grade 11, I cried and shook and couldn’t watch. In uni, I always chose to take the easier way out than having to sit with perfecting a masterpiece, I always chose the easier story to write for the campus paper, or the easiest essay question in a Lit test. This has been my ailment. And that’s the perfect word for it. Being an unmotivated person is an illness that needs to be purged.
So maybe now that I’ve actually realised that I do have problem and that I do want to get rid of it, I’ll actually start trying harder and maybe get that ‘Always Give 110%’ App. Maybe I’ll disappear for a few months from social networks (not really) and come back with 500 published articles. Maybe i’ll just try.
P.S This was more of a personal rant-slash-affirmation situation, but if you’ve taken anything from it then good on ya!
Alright, before you panic this post is not dark and end-of-your-line-y. It’s not about being a failure in life or not winning at love and work. I’m just here to goof off about those phases we all go through that aren’t really evident of a successful and well functioning adult, those sulky, kinda irresponsible, probably naggy, highly emotional phases we go through when nothing is going our way. The 20something’s seasonal guilty pleasure of self indulgence and mild self pity, i.e letting yourself go (hello, sweatpants and showerless weekends). Here are some signs that you’re slowly (or quickly) getting into a social and physical slump… #fml
- Being on antibiotics and actually being very upset that you will not be able to continue your gross tradition of using wine as a pick me up slash sleeping meds for a whole week.
- Leaving the house looking like Charlize Theron’s character in Young Adult and feeling completely okay about it. And being unashamed about leaving the shopping complex with a shopping bag full of snacks and two pizzas in your epic get-up.
- Asking yourself tough questions like ‘Where the hell does laughter come from? What is it even? And why am I extremely attracted to boys who make me do such a thing? There must be a documentary on this.’ Out loud.
- Feeling sorry for couples like, don’t they miss alone time? Shame.
- Singing Mumford & Sons’ ‘I will wait’ while preparing your less than healthy dinner. Because you’re actually singing the song to your less than healthy dinner. That can’t be right.
- Binge-watching Girls and Geordie Shore and having similar sentiments towards both. Good and Bad.
- Falling into old, childish habits you haven’t done in maybe even years. Like having to delete unfamiliar numbers from your Contact list after a night out. What the actual f?
- Thinking about your ex in any way. Which usually leads to internet stalking. And maybe even contact. Bleh.
- Watching The Croods and crying when the dad gets separated from his family. Like ugly crying until your throat gets sore. Even though, through the tears and hiccups, you’re busy telling yourself it’s a kiddie movie and people don’t die so there’s no reason to be this emotional.
- Exhausting the wine stash and the snack stash in one go. And then also destroying the reserve stash. Shame on you.
- Going days without showering. This is not Oppi, get your act together.
(Night trolling angry teen blogs? Seriously, man.)
If any of these apply to you or if you’ve done any of them, 1) Don’t feel bad, you’ll get out of it sooner or later and 2) I think you’re awesome for letting yourself feel all your feels and wallow for a bit. Now go ahead and rock your bad hair days in all your sweatpant swagger like you are being paid for it. [Then hurry and get over yourself ;)]
(By Cara L, via BuzzFeed)
My ex and I are good friends now but I literally experienced all of the below when I initially found out that he’d started dating somebody. This is a more comical view of the soul-shattering experience – the real thing is so much more ugly and surreal and then hilarious and ridiculous. Welcome to what happens when a ‘big’ ex moves on…
The 10 Stages Of Finding Out Your Ex Is In A Relationship
I don’t really do the tub of ice-cream thing. I’m more of a 3 giant packs of cheese curls lady.