A life without routine is the only way to live as I’ve recently discovered. Lately each moment holds more meaning, each memory is more sacred because each day is completely different and I call the shots depending on my mood. Whenever I want to do something, I ask myself if it will make me happy. If the answer is yes, I jump, arms open, free of worry, restraint, and care. I have found inner peace again because I’ve started to put my wants, needs, and desires first. And I’ve let go of all the anger, resentment, and regret that have been haunting me these last few months.
Some elements of my life, however, are strictly structured and there’s no way around that. I wake up each morning and commute to midtown Manhattan to work in a reasonably corporate office between the hours of 9 to 5. But I’ve learned to work with my circumstances and have stopped kicking myself when I want to request time off. I just take it and spend little time worrying about whether or not I’m making the right decision. Life is too short to miss out on the good stuff and if I can think of a suitable reason to skip out on a day behind the desk in artificial lighting, well then I must go where opportunity takes me. I’ve also stopped obsessively checking the balance in my bank account as I once did. I know there’s enough in there to afford me rent, food, wine, and concert tickets and that’s really all that matters.
I want to line things up that will give my life meaning (a kind of addendum to my bucket list). I will see every concert that interests me, provided my aforementioned bank account permits me to. I will go star gazing in upstate New York with or without a significant other because I want to. I will allow myself to be selfish and will not go out on a blind date just because a friend has found someone who also happens to be single. I recognize when there’s little else in common and I love myself enough to say no.
I’ve also decided it’s time I let go of some of the material clutter in my life. The other night I sat on my stoop smoking the single cigarette I picked up at my corner bodega and watched as the cars made their rounds through the crowded streets of Hoboken in hopes of finding a rare parking space. After 12 beautiful years together (some rocky, but most harmonious) I have decided that it’s time for me to sell my little red Honda Civic. Letting go of Lulu (short for one of my favorite Tori Amos songs, “Talula”) means I’m giving up my four-wheel vehicular dependence and am finally embracing city living. I feel sad we’re parting this way. But I’d like to avoid the ol’ rust bucket making its final protest and leaving me stranded somewhere for good and I’m glad to no longer have to deal with alternate side parking, Hoboken cops, and hefty ticket prices.
I will be out of town for a few days and will therefore not be able to visit your lovely blogs. Please send some good vibes my way, as I will soon leave on a road trip to Indiana and Wisconsin. Be well, my friends. I will see you upon my return!