Yesterday I was having very deep thoughts as I rode the escalator up and down at work. Something occurred to me–no idea now what sparked it–but as I watched the bodies around me it hit me that there are some things we should chase after and some we should not. As the meme correctly states, affection, love and attention are in the “never chase” column. That hit me hard yesterday. I want to be liked and respected in my new career. And then it hit me: if I chase after my dreams and my desires the right kind of attention will come my way. 

Forget asking any more guys out. Naw. Things ain’t nobody got time for–chasing down a dude. Hey, I’m here. I’m the epitome of single. You wanna go out? Ask. Funny thing is I admitted to one person on the planet that I do have a mild crush. You know, that overly interested in what he’s doing and when I run into him find it hard to speak thing. This confidant was all, “Oh my gosh he is so freaking cute and super sweet you guys would be so…” I’m like whoa there sista, don’t get my hopes up! But we did talk about how if anyone could understand the fact that I enjoy my job and its my passion, it would be someone like him. 

I’m chasing my dreams, folks. It’s not going to be easy–if even possible–for someone to understand that. And I don’t blame him. It would take serious maturity and confidence to spend little time together and have patience with a demanding schedule. My conclusion is that I am better off not chasing down anyone right now. Besides, as I pointed out to the confidant, we work together. I pointed out reasons this is a bad idea to even ponder and she countered with why that may be an excellent thing and how her relationship lasted a decade under similar constructs. No, I’m happy watching from afar. He makes me smile and he’s busy. Maybe he knows my name–maybe NOT!–but either way, not chasing that down. 

I know many love the morning videos, but they are glimpses and not the whole picture. For one thing, my dry wit doesn’t come across well. I’m not entirely sure you all are laughing at the same things I am when I re-watch them. My sense of humor is skewed and I like to make fun of myself more than anyone. (Note that I have mad respect for Ghetto Ninja)  Writing is my thing. It’s what I do. Twice this week I have been reminded of journalistic milestones that never made the resume. If I focus on what makes me happy and being patient with myself as I learn a new industry and culture, everything will happen like it should. I firmly believe if we chase what’s in our hearts, that life will put even more than we expected before us. 

Chase dreams. Chase friends when they try to board the crazy train. Chase fun. Chase hope. Chase the things that make you smile and don’t have too much attachment to them. Enjoy the moment and the one after that and the one after that and the one after that….. Chase coffee so you can chase a new idea 😊 

Do you ever wonder what the history books are going to say about our lives long after we are gone? That question came about after I was laying here awake [shocking!] and began thinking of the history of the resort where I work. It started its life as a super-exclusive, Southern getaway for the rich and/or famous to blow their money. When it was conceptualized in the cyber boom, that was fantastic and conceivable. But as all Roaring 20’s must, 2008 brought an end to the pornographic anyone-&-everyone-is-a-celebrity and America’s eagerness to give their money to such lost causes. 

And what should have been a quick reaction to immediately save as many jobs as possible and appeal to less exclusive clientele and perhaps just those who can keep the lights on, simply wasn’t. The resort was part of new ownership when the financial drought hit. Personally speaking, my house was worth less than half in December 2008 what it has been that summer when I bought it. I know, once again an illustration of my magical ability to pick the worst case scenario before it even appears. The resort was now part of the leading conglomerate and it was pretty much, “Vegas will tell you what to do and until then don’t do anything unless we tell you.” And then the line goes silent because Vegas is dealing with Vegas and the Southern beauty housing 4,000 of the 76,000 employees was not priority. They had to pull the entire family out of poverty–news copters were hovering at the headquarters to film the moment the company had to fold (It didn’t.)–so the kid away at boarding school didn’t really matter.  

And while that’s a great story about the company and industry (and by all means I feel Leo DiCaprio should get the lead in the film), it’s not the behind the scenes struggle of my resort or this place I call home. I wish someone had stepped in with big enough balls to do what we wanted down here without Mommy and Daddy’s permission. A leader should have been born in that year. But is the Gulf Coast so laid back and easy going that it’s contagious? Even if you aren’t from here, stepping up and breaking free of the crowd–you can do that without drawing attention to yourself you know!–is like a concept no one gets. Hell, maybe that’s why I stick around! 

Before I get off track and say things to get me fired, let me back off and make this less business and more about me because that’s really how this crazy thought train got started. Who is going to remember the tiny, normal details and attitudes about our day and age long after it is gone? Are you going to document that by the end of 2015 you could walk anywhere in America and in a sea of people they were all looking down at their phones? 

My 37th birthday is eight weeks away. I won’t be mid-30’s; I’ll undeniably be upper-30’s. What happened to my people? We came up during a time cordless phones were about as connected as you were and when you went out for the night, the only people who knew where you were and what you did were with you. If you wanted all 20 of your pals to know you met a hot guy or drank too much, they had to be there to find out. Nowadays, 600+ people have that info immediately with one selfie. Is history going to fully tell the story of our disconnect? Suicide rates? Bullying? Obesity? Stress addiction? Cancer? 

I guess that’s up to the writers like me. And the task seems so daunting when added to getting through a day in this mess, we table that for later. 

It’s far too perfect a morning to sit here and NOT write. It feels like fall in Mississippi (finally!). It’s 61 degrees and overcast. The limbs of the trees are doing a slow, casual dance as if shaking off the relentless heat we have experienced for months. They dance with glee. 

The last week was….well, it was fast and long all at once. Lots of work, Monday was there with the usual lists and boxes to check off. Next thing I knew it was Thursday and lists and boxes remained. That is both a wonderful and horrible feeling. Who enjoys what they do for a living so much that the days literally flip so fast it seems like a blur? I find that to be a wonderful blessing. I remember once upon a time that misery of watching the clock tick minute by minute and wanting to be out of the building. It’s a true blessing to wish you had more hours in the day because you are enjoying the time you spend working. 

The horrible feeling is the stress that comes with those boxes and lists and more adding to it. Stress and anxiety come and managing it is not my forte. So there I was Thursday evening, a mixture of joy and anxiety and decided to go sit and have myself a glass of wine in our upscale dining before heading to bed. Just a glass to enjoy something. 

Three hours, three glasses, one cocktail, and 4 different texts I should never have sent later I went to bed. Which meant Friday was kinda miserable. There is the alcohol hangover–easily cured with water and breakfast, neither did I wake up in time to procure–and then there’s the “what the hell did I send that text for” hangover. The second is far less easy to cure. In fact, I propose a game show in which my friends sit and watch me via hidden camera and win money based on my next move when I am drinking. They probably couldn’t handle it. They love me and would want to step in and put me to bed. God how I couldn’t survive this world without them. 

Today I realized my left and my right brains are at odds. The creative, romantic, hopeless optimist is not seeing what the data driven, analytic side sees. The world is literally coming at me from two opposing ends. I believe that’s where writers block comes in. And I think that’s an amazing thing. It’s an opportunity to really figure out what’s bothering me. Despite the hard work of having to face those drunk texts, it means I have some wrongs that I am not “over” that are probably bubbling below the surface needing me to bring my left brain in and figure it out. 

But the bottom line (Left Brain loves that term) is: I will never know why those guys used and hurt me and it’s time to free my right brain from the chains of feeling hurt. Why did I say those things drunk? Because I want answers. Well, dear A-type Brain, some things you need to let the other side handle. The side that knows they are hurt people just going around hurting people. And Lefty says, get out of their path. ASAP. Forget the texts (deleted their names and numbers for the record) and go shine. They are casting shadows and drowning out my beauty. And they are so not worth it!! 

One thing both sides agree on: it hurt around here recently with these mean people but it’s time to let it go. Just let. It. Go. There won’t be an answer. It’s a scientific theory, not a calculus problem with an identifiable answer. Time to dust myself off, get my nails done, and go to work. Cross those guys off the list because that is done. Now, time to work on more tangible matters. 

A day later, I found this: