“If I do everything that I should, when do I do nothing at all?”
Music has always played an integral role in my life, as I’m sure it has in many of yours.
I’m a musician, have been in various bands, and I consider myself somewhat of a songwriter (even though I find myself inspired and active in that pursuit far less frequently now than in years past).
I listen to a lot of music as well, from a diverse array of genres and time periods. Occasionally a particular track, sometimes even one I’ve already heard dozens of times before, will catch my ear and inspire me in some way.
I want to attempt to share that with you, my audience, despite knowing that my taste will not align perfectly with many of yours and that the inspiration I derive from listening to a song is uniquely my own.
It’s my hope that in sharing my inspiration, I can help you further relate to who I am as a writer, and perhaps establish a stronger connection between us as you read.
Anywho, strap in for a little rant in which I attempt to excuse my lack of fortitude this week and relieve a little stress in the process:
Those dozen or so you who follow this blog regularly (thank you) may have noticed that this has been a shotty week for me. I skipped my Monday post, and just yesterday failed to write yet again.
If you read “Happy Happy Joy Joy” on Tuesday, you know that I’ve been making a conscious effort to spend more time around others, be that coworkers, friends or family, and that effort took precedent over my blog on both of those days.
In an ideal world, I would be able to devise a way to do both, but the plans I make to be social are often very spontaneous, which can make it hard to plan to build writing into my day ahead of time.
“Kangaroo Pocket” is not a new song to me. It’s on my favorite playlist and I rock out to it quite frequently while commuting or cleaning my room or what have you.
It’s a simple tune, lyrically, that speaks to a resentment I have for the way my life has to work right now.
There are, for better or worse, only 24 hours in a day.
I try to sleep for 7 of those, though, which means my typical day is only 18 hours long.
I also work full-time about an hour from my home, so if you factor in my commute, work takes up an additional 10 hours. So non-working waking hours chalk up to about 8.
I have to eat to live, and if I’m being generous I spend probably half an hour either seeking out or cooking and then subsequently eating each of my three daily meals. So non-working or eating waking hours total only 6.5.
Working out and stretching are necessary to subdue my chronic sciatic pain, and that can take another hour and a half. 5 hours left.
Dealing with hygiene (showering, shaving, brushing my teeth a few times a day, etc.)? Typically an hour total.
And generally, crafting one of these blogs takes an hour.
So, by my calculation, the typical weekday, despite being 24 hours long, provides me with only 3 real hours of non-scheduled time.
That’s the window in which I allow myself to see friends, spend time with family, practice guitar, do art, read a book, play video games, hunt for jobs, answer emails, talk to my girlfriend on the phone, have an anxiety attack, run errands…
3 hours a day.
It’s maddening how short a day seems to become when I try to do everything that I should.
So the question posed in “Kangaroo Pocket” – “when do I do nothing at all?” – really profoundly resonates with me.
Because sometimes that’s all I want to do.