I fall in
love. Constantly. Too quickly. Too easily. Too much. I fall in love with ideas.
Crocheting. Discovered
it on Friday. On Monday I have all the tools, I’m crocheting passionate, genius,
maniac. Until the end of the ‘scarf and hat’ season.
Climbing.
One day I know nothing about it, next week I start going to the climbing gym
twice a week. I have beautiful, professional shoes, I read about it, I watch documentaries,
I’m becoming a pro. For half a year.
I also do
not fall in love with some other ideas and things. Then, I am perfect at
ignoring their existence. At school I loathed Geography. I locked up my
geography course book. During a class I would do my math homework or just sit
and doodle. I still don’t know how I even passed from grade to grade. Survival
skills, I suppose.
So it goes
with everything. It’s all or nothing. When I clean my flat I do it for a week
obsessively eliminating every inch of dust from the highest shelves, but before
I do that, I usually wait with said cleaning until the omnipresent mess
prevents me from finding anything.
When I
party, I party hard. And I don’t go home. I am the queen of the dance floor, the
last one standing, the survivor. Unless, I am having a bad day and I will
complain as long as all my friends want to tie me up, throw me into the river
and never ever see me again.
This is how
I am. A friend of mine once told me-it’s fascinating, every time we meet you
have a new passion, it’s so inspiring. Well, yes. It is also a quick road to the
infamous burnout. It happened to me before. Big time, about two years ago with
all my NGO life. It left me knocked out, beaten, on the floor. Begging for
something new and exciting to happen, for a pinch of inspiration. It passed. Or
I thought it did. Then it caught me again. I guess it’s still here, but it
looks like I have had enough of it and I am pretty sure good days are coming.
It’s not a
nice feeling and I bet many of you know what I am talking about. The most important question is: how do I get
rid of that flippin’ parasite that keeps me away from all new adventures?
What do I
know. I’m no specialist. But I’ll tell you what I did. (Because we live in the
internet era where everyone can talk about things they don’t really know
anything about. Deal with it.) I went out of my comfort zone. Jumped out of my
comfy PJ’s packed a hell of a suitcase and flew to Spain. For half a year.
Don’t be naïve. It didn’t work as a miraculous remedy to everything. I came
back 5 months ago and am still trying to figure out some things and put it all
together. It’s a process. Get it? I know you do.
So stop
reading this and go out. Eat a sandwich you would usually refuse to eat. Talk
to a stranger. Wear two different socks.
Or don’t. I
don’t know.
TTYL brains
PS:Contrary to
how it may seem, this ,in fact, is a happy post. Smile.
