There has been a lot of gasping going on around here lately. Mainly, the sharp intake of breath is due to the HORRENDOUSLY cold temps, which reached a high today of 4. That's four degrees Fahrenheit - not that balmy four degrees Celsius!
The other gasp was uttered by myself when I was given permission (by me) to drop a class. Yes, drop a class. This is something I do not do. I have always been one to plan, execute, achieve, celebrate (for a second) and jump back to plan, etc, etc, etc...
As I sat through this particular class on Tuesday afternoon (from 4-6 p.m. - aka: Kate's sleepy-and-need-caffeine time) I felt myself getting lower, and lower, and lower. And not just my mood - my chair was broken and sinking slowly.
"Why am I doing this?" I kept asking myself. The details of the class made me slightly queasy and exhausted. All I did was listen for two hours!
As I sat, I began to think about how to get out of this commitment. Besides moving to India or faking my own death, the logical explanation seemed to be to drop the class. I can hear you out there! You're saying, BIG DEAL! Everyone drops classes all the time - what's the dilemma?
I don't drop classes. I start something, I strive for excellence, and I finish something.
I achieve. It's what I do.
But, this week, I gave myself the chance to quit. Not fail, but quit.
I quit something that would have consumed my life.
I quit something that would have stolen my free time.
I quit something that would have given me the experience of doing exactly what I have been doing for the past 5 years.
And I am happy. And content.
I can quit. It doesn't kill me. And that could be the best lesson of all!
Верующий Гагарин и прочий трешняк
1 week ago