Relatable
In my early twenties, I didn’t go to bed. Through a lot of my late twenties, and early thirties, I did. Finding myself in the end of my thirties, I am back to a lack of bedtime restraints. It’s 643am, and I have not been to bed. I can also sleep for 12 hours at a time, starting at 1pm if I choose (or if convenient). Sometimes I feel like my best thinking happens at the wee hours. Or sometimes, it’s because I’m having fun. Fun isn’t a given at this stage of my life. When it happens, I hold on to it. That might mean I finally climb under the blankets at 7am. I almost instantly regret that when I have to get up. As an “adult,” I get frustrated at the fact that I feel like I have to choose between “fun” and “responsibility.” Maybe there’s supposed to be a balance, but I didn’t grow up with that equality. I grew up sheltered from the work ethic part, and it seemed to be that my parents had to choose. So dad worked, and mom was toting us to our things. They didn’t get to split those things. It was one or the other. Now, I have major work ethic, and I try to have a responsible mind set. When fun happens, I am almost confused feeling. Being a grown up doesn’t even sound fun to me. My employees would say that I’m all work and play. I need to work on balance I guess.