Me-time

You know how everyone talks about "me-time?" Last year, I scoffed at the idea of "me-time." "Me-time" was sitting down to eat a meal, or actually sleeping. "Me-time" was occasionally enjoying my assigned reading for my English class. How were you supposed to get anything done if you waste time doing things you like? I had school to excell in, and a sport for a part of the year, and a job to pay for a trip to Europe, and college to start worrying about. I was too busy for "me-time."

As some of you may know, I was crazy last year. I was tired and cranky and tired all of the time. Life was a frustration. But my grades were really good.

So, when I finally got out of the dreaded Junior year, I made myself a promise. This oath was to spend some amount of time every single day doing something I like.

Now when I get home, the first thing I do is Pilates. I unroll my green mat, and change into workout clothes, and put on my playlist of current favorite songs, and I spend a half an hour doing Pilates. 45 minutes if I'm having a bad day. I blame swimming for my exercise addiction, but for a few minutes I need to feel instead of reason, and concentrate on my own body instead of everything else.

I also write every single day. This might be better for me than Pilates, or sometimes sleeping, and sometimes even breathing. This is how I think, this is how life makes sense. I can go about three days without writing before I start to lose it. No matter how late it is, how tired I am, I write. I can sit down at my computer or pick up my pen and have no idea what's going to happen. Sometimes it's nothing important, like this entry. Sometimes it is important. And every once in a while I can feel something tugging at my fingers, and as I begin to move my hand across the page, something amazing comes out. Something I didn't even know I had inside of me.

My point is, if you scoff at "me-time," well, don't do it. I don't care how busy you are. I take three APs, and I work, and I teach a class at church. And Stacy Kmentt, it may not be AP Bio, but even 2 blocks of study hall is a drop in the bucket when you're taking AP Lit with Westby. I speak from experience. I, the textbook Type A personality, "I don't care if I die sooner than Type B personalities, at least I'll accomplish more" kind of person, say that those two percentage points on your report card are not worth hating life.

The moral of this story is, find something you like to do and do it. Quality of life. Sanity. Just do it.