That's exactly what I've been doing lately. There's an expression: "You can sleep when you're dead", and I suppose it's true and it's been kind of my motto lately. But could I possibly be stretching myself too thin? Running myself into the ground?
I am what is referred to as an over-achiever. Unless I'm operating at at least 175%, I'm not satisfied and I tend to get restless. "Over-achiever" can also be referred to as "over-committed".
It's actually a blessing to be over-committed. Sure, sometimes I might complain about not having time to catch up on any of my shows online, or feeling like I'm some pack animal, constantly carrying my gym clothes and whatever additional clothes are necessary for my evening plans following the gym, but it's worth it.
Why is it worth it? Because despite the fact that I complain when there's too much to be done, this is the life I want. This is exactly what I asked for in those times when I was spending my entire weekend inside watching "Bridezilla" marathons, giving myself every excuse not to do my laundry.
I fantasized about what it would be like to have friends calling me with constant, glamorous plans to hang out, dates every night of the weekend, an impressive job title with matching work responsibilities, and the clothes, hair and body that go with such a sophisticated, busy, urban woman.
I wanted all that and I still do. The price? The price is sleep. The price is being woken up at 3am with a text to talk because it's 4pm in Tokyo and that's when my friend who was there was free. The price is not getting that moment of relaxation to watch that Lifetime movie Sunday night because an impromptu rooftop party just came up in the city and I have to change into stilettos (and I didn't get back to my apartment until 2am, by the way). The price is having to triage exactly who you get to hang out with and when, and even having to say NO to people because although I can operate at 175%, I can't split myself into two separate people occupying different spaces...yet.
Of course, however, there are perks. The perks are feeling loved. I got out of a relationship recently where I didn't feel loved. If I ever did, it was because I had jumped through some ridiculous hoops the person set up for me, only to find out there were more hoops at the end. But now? Now people are trying to get some of my time.
Now my friends keep me busy almost every weeknight (if not doing karaoke, or a poetry reading or visiting the premier gay men's gym in NYC, then over the phone, relaying some crazy story...and I finally have some of my own to share), men take me out every night of the weekend, and because of the heavy time I put into the gym and in the fashion advice from my amazing friends, I'm looking fabulous while doing all of it.
And the men are a BIG perk. I mean, before I seemed to run into these men who complained about paying the bill, even for the FIRST date. I don't think chivalry is dead, folks. But I was pretending I was so progressive that I was OK with paying, OK with coming over to my place as a date instead of going out, OK with changing my plans because HE freed up some time for ME at the last moment.
Not anymore. The men I date now have cars. Cars! In NYC, that's like crazy awesome. The men I date pay the tab and I don't even have to pretend to reach in my purse when the bill comes like some girls do. Sure, I'll do that on like date 3 or 4, but on the first date, I am completely blind to the bill. The men I date have jobs. Not unemployed! Not part-time employed! Not even minimum wage-employed. Legitimate jobs with legitimate titles that pay for these tabs and cars they have in their lives. And these men are doing their best to impress ME for a change, rather than telling me their sob story and asking for my help. As far as men are concerned, I'm homeless, broke and unemployed and have nothing to give them. They can offer me everything and I'll take it and consider gracing them with my company as a reward.
I know this might sound a bit callous. It is incredibly diva-like. I also know it sounds materialistic. I'm actually not materialistic at all. But folks, EVERYONE enjoys nice things. Every girl DESERVES higher-caliber men than what seems to be prevalent throughout New York. Before May, I'd only had one guy buy me a drink. EVER. With my new attitude, I'm inviting the positive energy in and at least two men offer to buy me a drink EVERY WEEK. I must be doing something right. Chivalry is not dead to these guys.
So I'll keep you posted. I'm living the life I've chosen, trimming the fat and the negativity that kept me away from my dreams. The end result is bound to be amazing...
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