I’m addicted to Parks and Rec. I’ve seen the entire series at least 3 times through.
I can’t explain it. Obviously it is an amazing show, a fact that is universally agreed upon. But my enjoyment goes beyond just a “haha, that is funny.” and it is more like an “Omg, I love every single moment of this program.” (Except the Mark Brandanawicz, or should I say Branda-quits story lines.)
I can turn this show on in the background as I cook or clean and I find myself laughing out loud. Each time I find a new hilarious nugget that I hadn’t noticed or remembered from the first time I watched it.
People often talk about television as something that sucks your time. Something that keeps you from being truly productive and a complete waste of energy. There are a lot, and I mean A LOT of shows that make me feel this way, but P&R is the exact opposite to me. It sparks a motivation within to do more in my community and for my friends. Amy Poehler (and the writers and supporting actors) make me feel like I can and should do more. I can be more. Something about this show explains a piece of my life to me that has always been lingering just under the surface.
When we are young, we see TV shows as a neat package of ideal lives. The characters lives may not always be perfect, but at the end of every 30 or 60 minutes the story line reaches full circle and there is always a happy little ending. Then we compare our lives to the characters and wonder what we need to do to achieve TV show perfection. As I get older, I’ve started to appreciate the moments they show on TV as the highlight reel and when I look around my life, I realize that in a sense, my life could be a TV show.
The comedy moments where my “April” coworker acts like she could care less about her job, but at the end of the day always gives it 100%. The “Ann Perkins” friend who shows up for me and will both tell me what I’m doing wrong and also support my every stupid decision. The “Ron” moments when someone I love completely disagrees with me and our passions are so far apart we wonder how we are even friends. There is the ridiculously positive “Chris Traeger” friend. The “Ben Wyatt” moments when
I can’t stop staring at my husbands adorable butt my husband and I truly support one another
Maybe by starting this blog I’m trying to find and document those moments in my life. The “Ah-Ha, this is hilarious” moments. The Ann Perkins/Leslie Knope Friendship moments. The “look at that cute butt” moments. And through this process, I simply take the time to notice how hilarious and perfect my life really is.
Or maybe I’m just rambling.
I’ve been reading “Gone In A Heartbeat: A Physicians Search for True Healing” I’ve had many moments when I have read something that quickly made an impact on my life. I’m sure you’ve experienced this moment before. When you’re reading and you have to stop and take a breath because it makes so much sense. Sometimes this moment can feel like a giant thud into your heart as you realize you’ve been so wrong about something. Other times it will be like a sudden weight has been lifted because you realize you’re not alone, or you’ve found an answer.
“If it works for you, it’s 100% successful.”
I took a moment after reading this. I had to let it sink in. Life is often a numbers game. If you get a 98% on this test, you have an 85% chance of getting into this school. If you try this drug, you have a 17% chance of
some horrible a side effect but 67% chance of feeling better. Every year after the age of 30 you lose ___% of fertility. (Whoops, didn’t mean to go and get all personal there.)
We try to balance out the positives with the negatives. Over 51% is good right? But not as good as if your chances are 61% or even better, 71%!! But at the end of the day, the percentage doesn’t matter because it was either 100% successful for you, or 100% not successful.
I wonder how knowing these numbers might change the actual outcome. What if we went into everything thinking we had a 100% chance of getting what we wanted?
“If it works for you, it’s 100% successful.”
I am a business owner. Like a real, in an office, business.
Before you get too excited, I’m my only employee. It is a service based business so I don’t have a lot of overhead, but I do have an office and rent and patients that rely on me on a daily basis. I don’t have anyone telling me what to do except for my clients. I don’t have quarterly reviews with my boss. I don’t receive a “paycheck” and my benefits are not of a tangible nature. Owning my own business makes me look at a lot of things differently.
I genuinely enjoy my job and I rarely mind going into work. Although we all have our days where staying in sweatpants seems way better than working. I can block off time in the schedule whenever I want to, so technically I get unlimited vacation days, but sadly, not a single one will ever be paid. I had to purchase some expensive disability insurance in order to keep the business going while I (hopefully/eventually) get to go on maternity leave. Calling in sick is a huge hassle. I’ve had to do it twice since I started my business nearly 3 years ago and it involved calling and emailing about 12 people each time.
I hope to create some running posts as my microbusiness grows and develops. I am certain that there are fellow micropreneurs out there that want to connect. Hopefully we can find support and assistance in each other.
I’ve always wanted to be a morning person. I’m in my 30s now and I’m JUST barely starting to get a hang of getting up with my first alarm. In elementary school my dad would wake me up with a cute little “get up little rosebud” song and then I put my clothes on while I was still UNDER the covers. In high school I set the alarm across the room, I would get up to shut it off and then climb back into bed. In college, well I often worked until 11pm so I milked every moment in the morning. Now that I’m 30 I feel like I’ve finally developed a routine…
Rebecca sends a group text of a motivational quote or picture and then I get up. I have to admit it is not the motivational text that gets me moving so much as the fact that if Becca can be up, so can I. (I might be a little competitive.)
Then I slide on my slippers, shuffle down stairs, and turn on the water to make my mug of coffee. As I stare blankly out into the dark and listen for my water to boil I think about how awesome I am, and how proud I am of myself for getting out of bed. (Also not too terribly humble.)
Then I take that hot mug of coffee back to my bedroom and I start to scroll through any other texts, usually Melissa has joined in at this point. (Katie, the 4th in the group text is usually not up with us yet.) Then I look at a couple blogs and think “I should start a blog”… Which brings me to this moment.
Morning Coffee Texts. Every morning.
I hope this blog becomes a place of sharing my relatable journey. It probably won’t be full of exciting pictures or DIY projects. I have a feeling it will wander a little until I find my true purpose here. But stick with me. I think we will both be surprised where we might find ourselves.