My body and mind feel like mush. I’m mentally and physically drained. I think I may be getting an ulcer again. But I’ve been having the best times.
That’s the crossroads of my life right now. At 35, finding the work hard/play hard balance is an onerous experiment. Moderation is not my best virtue. I walk a very fine line between no play and overindulgence. It’s a constant battle of checks and balances.
Summer time in Philly means pool parties, the shore and multitude of social events. The spring and summer are my favorite times of the year. Once it starts getting cold my Seasonal Affect Disorder kicks in and I want to hibernate.
I’ve been investing my time going out, being social and meeting new people. I have become more of an introvert over the past couple years. Being comfortable allowing others into my life and growing my social circle is important to me.
However, I’m starting to tip the line of being a bad adult. At times I am completely irresponsible. For instance, last weekend I had planned to stay in Friday night. I was relaxing on my couch trying to fall asleep when a friend texted me and asked me meet him for a cheesesteak. It sounded completely innocuous so I obliged. Next thing I knew it was 7 AM and I was pulling back up to my house.
Getting a cheesesteak somehow lead me to the strip club, an after hours bar and then to a random strangers house until 6:30 AM. When I left and walked out into the morning sunshine I realized I was essentially in the projects. A large mural of cookie monster was staring me down, judging me as I made my way to my car.
I drove home knowing that my Saturday would most likely be wasted. No gym, no writing, no reading. I slept for 3 hours and accomplished nothing productive that day. I went to my friend’s sons’ birthday party and felt like a giant piece of shit. When I returned home that night fell asleep until 11 AM the next day.
The last 2 1/2 months have been incredibly fun and worth the two day hangovers. Now I’m starting to question it. Two weeks ago I told a friend that my goal was to be home before 5 AM on a weekend nights. She laughed at me and condescendingly asked if that was seriously a goal. Sadly I said yes, and I meant it.
Fun versus productivity. That is where I’m at a standstill. I’m trying to figure out a way to be firm but fair with myself. Allowing myself to enjoy my summer, but still be accountable to my work. At my age this probably shouldn’t be a real issue for me. I’m not sure why this is such a difficult life lesson for me to conquer.