The Schedule

I don't know exactly when it happened... Sometime between leaving the sunshine state and getting married, I became a scheduler. I can't tell you exactly why this happened. Just seems that I like it better that way right now. I can schedule anything-- fun, work, payments, spontaneity, whatever. The more scheduling the better.

Fortunately, I'm not surrounded by people who like spontaneity-- in movies it seems to be a fatal character flaw to lack spontaneity. You'd rather have herpes than lack a spontaneous streak. Yet, in life now, it seems that spontaneity has become quietly linked with flakey. Quitting a job, ditching work to take a weekend road trip-- you'll never fill a 401k like that. And that's on my schedule. So is going to Vegas, by the way.

I don't think I was always like this... Sure I was never as free as I'd like to think I was... In my mind, college was nothing but free time and one blank open schedule-- people spoke of spontaneity like it was in short supply-- life itself seemed to be spontaneity then. The reality is that maybe my first semester was like that, and maybe my last semester was like that, but in between were 8 semesters of tests, exams, papers, labs, midterms, and finals... I've forgotten the 95% hard work, and only remember a few parties, bars, and beach trips. I didn't feel the freedom I had then, but I know now that I had it.

I don't know if I'll ever go back to what it was before. If I think about the greatest possible outcome of my career-- to become wildly successful and retire early. I think in my retirement, I'll mostly want to schedule lots of things. Fun things, but scheduled things.

I never know as much as I think I do

It's always easy to look in from the outside and figure I've got it all figured out.

My person, actions, thoughts, being, career, and life are perfect, without question, or reproach-- so the thinking goes. Since that's all tidy, I may as well start looking around at others and explain in a veiled way how they should make themselves more like me-- faultless and all...

Yet, Ibis, the truth is so far from that.

You wouldn't know I have barely slept in three weeks. The worst part of it is I don't know why. It's certainly not for lack of being tired. It's not for a lack of opportunity. I'm so tired during the day now, I sometimes lay down on the floor beneath my desk-- still I don't sleep. "What is wrong with me?" I cry out internally-- suddenly intensely aware that my attainment of perfection was, at least, incomplete.

Before three weeks ago, I somehow forgot about the one thing I fear most-- sleep deprivation.

For at least three years sleep was a privilege not regularly afforded. For the past two years though, sleep has been a regular option for me, but now I cannot seem to make it work. All of this truthfully must just be the surface of what is a deeper pool of imperfection. C'est La Vie.

Turns out, you have to

Sometimes, it turns out that you have to.

Get out of bed

Take your hat off

Kick some ass, maybe your own, maybe someone else's, maybe everyone's

Remember yourself

Appreciate the good things you can do when you're not busy being distracted by what's important to other people

Remember that the ability to connect with another person is one of the most important parts of life.

Remember that it's a gift to be able to do that.

Remember that I have seen a child's brain beat in the open air like a heart, and made that all better again.

Remember that I've helped cure a cancer when there seemed to be no hope.

Remember that Thank You sometimes means nothing, and sometimes means everything.

Remember that I've saved a life.

Remember that the love of others is probably the only thing that will ever make most of us special in this world.