I’m moving 1,000 miles a minute, but am I really going anywhere? How much of my time do I spend being busy, when really, if I took the time to slow down, I’d actually gain some clarity on a few things. As the waves crashed, I thought about my life. Our very last day on the beach, we walked to the shore one last time and just stood there in silence. Confused, we responded, “Nothing, why?” He then proceeded to imitate our hurried walk and explained that we appeared to be in distress the way we marched over like irate soldiers. His eyes widen as he asked us what was wrong. Candice and I walked to one of the bars one night and unknowingly scared the crap out of this poor lil bartender. My cynicism was gone after one sip of my strawberry daiquiri (there were many more to come).
Amidst the humidity that turned my once crisp curls into a softer bigger ‘fro (even my hair was commanded to drop its ‘tude), your worries melted into the backdrop of palm trees and crashing turquoise waves. “No problem, mon,” is the Jamaican motto we were told to immediately adopt by the friendly attendants at the Breezes Rio Bueno resort. There I was – Brenda Busybody without her connection to everything that stressed her out on a daily basis. My lovely Sprint coverage wouldn’t allow me to call anyone and text messages were like $146.00 a pop, so that was out of the question. Back to the show.) Although I brought my trusty laptop (Like VISA, I can’t leave home without her) the astronomical internet fees caused me to keep her shut. (This was nearly two months ago and I’m still daydreaming about Jamaica like I was there yesterday.
I could barely get excited about my freaking best friend’s wedding because of all of the crap I loaded on myself. In the midst of updating our fabulous statuses, we are really lethargic, tired, slightly broken and out of creative juices…at least I am. Don’t get me wrong – we are a bunch of hard workers, indeed, but this contest to live the best life is not benefiting anyone. Everyone wants everyone else to believe that they’re living these fantastically charmed lives. Dare I even utter the word sleep and one of ‘s Twitter minions will surely come after me.Ī friend and I discussed this generation’s need to make themselves look like their life is so progressive. Taking a break is grounds for castration. I think we’ve all fallen victim to this idea that in order to be living a successful life, you should be “on the clock” at all times. In reality, everyone is just narcissistic. Everyone is a virtual therapist, preacher, teacher, sexpert, life coach and motivational speaker. Between Twitter, Facebook and Skype, I get physically sick to my stomach being inundated with the opinions of people with whom which I don’t have real relationships. This whole era of social media doesn’t help, either. I’d love to claim that I’m completely right-brain functioning – you know, one of those dreamy artists living in this laid back, hippie world. Relax, Relate, Release: What Whitley Gilbert Taught This Social Media Minion
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