Yo, colette. I checked out our new blog last night. It's cool. Can I get some? I'd love to write something.
Great, she said. Here's the link. How's thursday, she said.
Cue wednesday. Fade in on the alarm clock in my ear. Fade out to the snooze button. Fade in to the alarm clock again. Fade out to the snooze button. I should get up soon because I made a lot of promises to myself and once this day starts it's not gonna stop. But this pillow feels nice, and that snooze button is so damn accessible. I should have hid that shit before I went to sleep, and in the scramble to find that buzzing shook myself awake. But I didn't. Ten spin cycles later I roust my soul.
The soul that was smiling to make plans for the morning, but reluctant to execute them. Why do I consistently write checks that I know I will not cash? When aiming for the basket, great jump shooters perfect the follow-thru, not the wind up. Drive to the end of the line, say those who teach Shakespeare. But here I am again, draggin an ass that's trailing the dreams of productivity that danced in my head when I laid down in this bed. Forget the cart, forget the horse, for starters, let's just get to the market.
Cue my father at the front door. We're meeting for lunch today. He wants Chinese, but we only have time for pizza. We're discussing whether or not he and his brothers and sisters should tell my grandmother that hospice is an option. That, in all likelihood, she has no need to make plans for the spring. Life is short. We only have so much time. And the snooze button is further away from my finger.
Cue a brisk walk from Herald Square. This wind doesn't like my face, and the feeling is mutual.
But I don't have time to waste, because today must be run on a tight rope. Rehearsal starts in five. Yesterday I was five late. I get there on time today. In time to begin a workout that should have started in December. You're soft, I'm told, it's time to step it up.
Damn, I wish I wasn't so....I'm gonna start hitting the gym and eating right...seriously, tomorrow, I'm gonna....Life is short. We only have so much time. And the snooze button starts to blush.
Cue a subway ride down to Dumbo. The rehearsal was food for thought, and I'm sitting down to a plateful of what the fuck are you gonna do about it. At this point, nothing. I've made a commitment to come support my girlfriend's after school arts program. Urban Art Beat. They've brought their teenage students from the Bronx down to Brooklyn to showcase the work they've created this semester. It's an amazing program. They use hip-hop, an art form the kids are constantly surrounded by, to teach, to build confidence and to create a home for an underserved, disenfranchised community. The kids rock the house. They cannot vote, smoke or defend out country, but tonight they bless the mic and savor the energy passed between crowd and stage.
They get this opportunity because a group of artists took their time and passion and passed it on. Life is short. We only have so much time. And the snooze button is a distant memory.
It's time to stop typing. It's time to stop making commitments and start keeping them. I am not an ideal. I am a reality.
Cue the present.