Because Excellence is Exhausting
Lately just reading my Facebook news feed makes me tired. People are doing, making, growing, and thinking all sorts of big, exciting things. And not only am I not doing those things, but I also don’t even feel like aspiring to do those things.
If you’re among those happily doing stuff with your life: carry on. I mean, someone has to, I guess—and it sure as hell isn’t going to be me. There are a gazillion blogs and sites out there that you can read to inspire you to your next great achievement. This is not that kind of blog.
Nope. This blog is for the underachievers. For the people who don’t plan on running a marathon. Ever. For the people who don’t grow anything, except mold and leg hair. For people who would rather sip a cocktail and watch America’s Next Top Model than sew, bejewel, or marinate anything.
Expectations have gotten out of hand, I think. We’re expected to actually like (and connect with, and communicate with, and even have sex with) our spouses. We’re encouraged to grow our own vegetables and make delicious, healthy dinners out of them and then compost the scraps. We should turn our old clothes into new clothes and then sell those new clothes on Etsy. We’re supposed to not only raise children, but also raise chickens. (Seriously? Chickens? What the fuck?) AND we should do it all without the valium and cigarettes that helped our own mothers get through the day.
Well, I say: to hell with excellence. Good enough is good enough. If it weren’t, they shouldn’t have called it “good enough.”
So I will shamelessly (usually) and unapologetically (mostly) continue to do absolutely nothing blog-worthy or inspiring with my life. I’ll buy my food at the regular old grocery store—not even the farmer’s market; not even organic. I won’t bother to sort my laundry into separate loads or put pairs of socks together before I throw them into drawers. I’ll settle for walking home from the bar as quite enough exercise for the week, thank you. And I’ll quickly kill any plant the kids give me for Mother’s Day.
I’ve often said that two kids, two cats, and one plant are all I can keep alive. And I have the dead fish, the empty snail shell, and the withered cactus to prove it.
I can’t promise you that this blog will be excellent, or thought-provoking, or interesting. But I give you my word that I will make a half-assed attempt at making it mediocre. And don’t go getting any big ideas about daily or weekly or regular updates of any kind. I’ll commit to “occasional,” and that’s it.
One thing you can count on, though: It’ll probably make you feel better about yourself. Maybe that can be my own big contribution to the world?
(Disclaimer to all clients and potential clients: Don’t worry. My mediocrity doesn’t extend to the work I do or would do for you. In fact, it’s possible that my dedication to my clients and my work is what makes me so mediocre at everything else. Really.)
