FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I GIVE A DAMN.

February 24, 2016

 

 

Here goes everything. Welcome to A Certain Lifestyle. Hence forth you will find fiction, nonfiction, recipes (sorta), organizing tids and decorating bits; the ongoings of yet another person in the vast cosmos of other people's ongoings that the Internet contains. To give you a more quantitative look at what I might be sharing, here are some numbers: I have 1 nine-week-old son, 2 businesses, 1 furniture and 1 professional organizing, started within the last year, 1 condo to renovate and decorate, 29 books to read before I turn 30 next year (admittedly I only got to 24 of the 28 before I turned 29), 119 days until my self-catered, diy wedding with 250+ guests who recently received 140 handwritten recipes on the backs of their invitations, 21 flights of stairs to climb because the elevator never toned anyone's backside, 3 children's books that I am working toward getting published, 100 daily ounces of water to drink, 2 novels that divide their existence between Word documents on my laptop and the unformed ether of my mind and 10,000 hours left worth of converting intangible ideas into the lines and swoops of letters before I can claim to be any good at writing.  

 

A Certain Lifestyle. Two meanings there. A Specific Lifestyle. A Sure Lifestyle. The way I do things and the extent to which they are done is definitely a very specific choice. One does not just wander into so many things, it is a decision to live in such a way that every ounce of life and potential can be squeezed from each 24-hour lemon that we are given. I am here to share my approach with those for whom existing is not enough. The way I do things and the extent to which they are done is definitely a very sure choice. I am sure that this lifestyle is the only one for me. It is both a comfort and an inescapable fact. 

 

As a launching point, I'll share a realization that can make surety a little easier to come by: there is no "fake it 'til you make it" but rather "fake it and that makes it". There is no ultimate feeling of 'I've arrived' or 'I belong' to achieve. You are what you say you are as long as you join your words and actions. I wanted to be an early bird so I started setting my alarm for 4:30 a.m. When the alarm went off, I got up. Voilà! I was an early bird. I initially felt a little bit like a fraud, it was clearly a sham, wouldn't people figure out that....what? That I actually woke up at 4:30? It's not as though being an early bird is an innate feature of certain peoples' lifestyles and I am just faking it with the alarm. No. I am an early bird.  I wake up early. Really early. 

 

So what are we thinking? Ready to be Certain? I mean, my hands probably have baby poop on them as I type this, spit up is pooling in my clavicle and my mug of French-pressed coffee has already been microwaved three times but I keep my shit together and I'm ready for it all. It's not about perfect, it's about caring enough to try.

 

Join me. 

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