Good day, fellow artsies!
Here’s the deal. I’ve come to the long overdue conclusion that I think too much. (You should know that I come to this conclusion frequently, and each time it feels like a revelation). The problem? I always think too much when I don’t have time to think at all.
This is a tad odd, as I frequently wax poetic about the virtues of spending time alone—enjoying your own company and getting inside your own head. It’s a wonder that my best thinking doesn’t happen in these moments.
That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
Yup. This kind of thing happens most when I’m too busy to have time for anything, let alone philosophical ponderings of my inner self and the meaning of life….or philosophical ponderings about philosophical ponderings (what? That’s a thing).
And since I am currently neck deep in the job hunt, drowning amidst mediocre cover letters, passionate queries, (less passionate) job searches, my ever-altered resume, exhaustion, severe panic, and a 65 hour workweek… naturally I am also making time for thinking about thinking…
Am I thinking about this the right way? Am I thinking this through enough? Am I over-thinking? Am I taking this too seriously? Am I not taking it seriously enough? Am I thinking about this too soon? Should I have been thinking about this sooner? Am I thinking about thinking too much? How will I think about the way I thought about this a year from now? Will I think then that I should have thought about this differently than I’m thinking about it now?
Mid-Post Disclaimer: I am aware that this does not make a lot sense… I’m over it.
So here’s the deal. Now that I’ve introduced you all to a bit of my crazy, I am also going to share with you the things that make me less crazy. AKA: The point of this post.
(Bet you didn’t know just how inspiring I would be this morning, did ya? You’re welcome).
When I feel all this self-imposed pressure building and pushing me to do things right and on time and perfectly, I just need some silly in my life.
It makes a lot of sense now that I think about it, that my favourite forms of entertainment feature mid-sentence bursts of song. They don’t make sense, and that is precisely what I need when I’m trying to make too much sense of everything. Right? Right! (So glad you agree!)
So without further ado… observe the silliness:
#1: Because he is “Hugh Jackman!”… And “Theeeeeese are the OSCARS!”
#2: Because he definitely couldn’t dance like THAT at the Yule Ball.
#3: Because “This is QUINTESSENTIAL D-C”, off-key and made of silly.
#4: Because “you’re my only friend, Abu!”
#5: Because it makes me believe, okay?
I hope these help you cope with your future bouts of insanity.
Thank you, and goodnight.
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P.S. I’ll be less crazy next week. Promise.