Sure, I had lots of other things to work on but I could've probably finished my NaNo-ing if I had prioritized it. But I didn't and that's a-okay! What's the point in getting down on yourself? No point, pals. I celebrate my other accomplishments. And me accomplishing other things doesn't make it okay that I didn't win NaNo, but it's a part of being a human, buds. And if you still have things to celebrate what's the point on pooping in your own hand and forcing yourself to take a whiff?
Sometimes it takes longer to succeed at things. So I don't particularly think you should ever say you failed at something when it's something you have time to finish or fix or succeed at in whatever way that means.
Like it's like a big floppily doo I only have liiike 9 more months to make it onto a 30 Under 30 list, which would be nice and all but who really cares. I want to feel like it's more like I have 9 months to do several awesome things that make me a soaring eagle in the sky of my life. And then when the time has passed to be one of 30 under 30 I get the chance to be 100 under 100 or I get the chance to just say all those lists can suck my butt. Anyway. The point is all you can do is take a step towards earning your eagle's wings and fly like the big bald bird you are.
Just imagine me as this old fart with a pipe, in in a white suit, a snowy wig made of pipe cleaners to match.
Another thing I'm not succeeding at yet? Living abroad. I don't think I've taken full advantage of crap and even though it's expensive and there is a level of guilt inherent in my presence there and money and whatnot - I think it's time to fart that into oblivion. I think I'm messing it up.
I mean, I don't really know exactly what I want. And I'm hoping to live my imaginary future. But for now I can only take my tiddly steps towards that. And, like I said, I think I'm messing it up.
Like Andy-Sachs-Devil-Wears-Prada messing it up style. I need me the Chanel boots and to say things like "She's not in but I'll leave word." Except instead I think I'll just keep my new practical moto-type rain boots that make me feel like kicking in doors and instead of taking messages for idiots I'll say things like "Keep the change" when there's no change to keep. And take the UK and Europe by it's overpriced saggy bananas.
And I know I'm in a Master's program that I'm loving and moving towards my imaginary future and all that. But I'm also still worried about when the Master's is over what the heck I'm gonna do. What's in my guts?
I just watched a movie about Keira Knightley playing a Master's-having-yet-dissatisfied-with-possible-future loner, so my goal is to figure out how to get a motor in my boat by graduation. Cause I'm done floating. Yes, yes, I've had jobs and liked some parts of some of them and hated most other parts of them and done freelancing and whatnot. But I want to have it all! So begins the hunt for a career for all time. Or at least a good next hunk of time. Maybe I could help people write things? I like writing workshops? And I like researching stuff. And I like making stuff up. And controlling people. OOH. I could be a ridiculous drama teacher. And force kids to write and perform their own interpretations of the American Revolution, but there has to be a karaoke scene in there. Or like, trade all the genders and make up new genders. Or any old thing. Or pretend there're secret romances between generals or something. I dunno. A lot of 'or' to get through it seems.
And while Keira didn't actually figure everything out by the end of her movie, she did teach me if all else fails I can find a lonely yet attractive lawyer who's not really lawyer-y, with a teenage daughter who also likes me who'll let me move in with him.
But. Failing at that. Or rather. Not succeeding at that. My new immediate first step before returning to school:
Taking one-person show class and then signing up to perform one! That's all there is. There isn't anymore.