REMINDER...
Tired —> Nap
Sad —> Music
Stressed —> Walk
Angry —> Exercise
Burnt out —> Read
Feeling lost —> Pray
Overthinking —> Write
Anxious —> Meditate
You can literally come back from anything. Lost everything, hit rock bottom, made the worst decisions, burned every bridge — does not matter. People have rebuilt from things far worse than what you are carrying right now and went on to build something better than what they lost. The only variable that actually decides whether you recover is the decision to. No special talent required. No perfect circumstances needed. Just the choice, made quietly in a hard moment, to keep going. That choice is always available to you.
STAY CLEAR of the people who don’t value the small sacrifices you make… like spending money you barely have, showing up when you’re tired, giving advice, being a listening ear, carrying their problems, or being the one who checks in first.
Men,
You're not horny,
You're lonely.
You're not lonely,
You're depressed.
You're not depressed,
You lack purpose.
Find a meaningful purpose in your life.
No one is coming to save you.
This is why The World Cup still feels so strange. Saturday afternoon. Nice weather. Few pints and maybe a BBQ but there is no game till 8pm tonight.
Just doesn’t feel right does it.
So I once knew a woman who worked at a grocery store 3-4 hours A WEEK. I asked if it was even worth the drive and she said she got 50% off groceries so yes it was worth it.
Mind you, she was retired. Maybe genius?
The guy in 12B is pretending to be intensely fascinated by the safety brochure. The woman glares at me, unbuckles her seatbelt with a loud clack, and stands up. As she slides into the aisle seat, she mumbles, "Some people have zero empathy."
The victory is short-lived. For the next two hours, every single time she needs to use the restroom, which is four times...she doesn’t just ask me to move. She deliberately grabs the back of my seat to pull herself up, shaking my entire world, and "accidentally" drops her heavy tote bag onto my lap on her way back in.
I paid extra for 12A on an overnight flight specifically so I could lean against the wall and sleep. I get to my row, and there’s already a woman settled in my seat, eye mask pulled up on her forehead, sipping a complimentary water.
"Excuse me, I think you’re in 12A," I say, holding up my boarding pass.
She doesn't even look at it. "Oh, I’m in 12C. But I really get claustrophobic in the aisle. You don't mind swapping, right? It's the same row."
"Actually, I do mind. I specifically booked the window so I could sleep."
She sighs, the kind of heavy, dramatic sigh that implies I’m being the difficult one. "It’s a three-hour flight. Surely you can be a good Samaritan."
I keep my voice completely flat. "I’m not a good Samaritan. I’m a tired person who paid $45 extra for that exact headrest. Please move."