365 Days

Well here we are, 12 months later and I have written sweet fuck all.

Happy 1 year Jrunk Talk.

Boy oh boy did I have some plans for this blog! I have plans for lots of things and as it turns out, I’m just not very good at the execution part. What an interesting realisation that is to grapple with. Day by day I’m turning into a version of me who makes a promise to herself but doesn’t keep it. Ooooft. That hurts.

I don’t know if anyone else has noticed but we are living in a world that encourages participation over effort, handouts over hard work and offers us every excuse for why we can’t/shouldn’t/haven’t or won’t achieve our goals. So we drink the Koolaid and coast along thinking that a good life is good enough. A good car is good enough. A good job is good enough. A good effort is good enough. And maybe for some, it is. But the gentle and seemingly nonchalant approach we encourage is at extreme odds with the maximum effort kind of life that I desperately want to get off my ass to strive for. So…why don’t I pull a Nike and just do it already?

Well, the truth of the matter is that I haven’t written anything because I lack discipline. It’s the same reason I’ll eat a whole block of chocolate in one sitting or why I will finish everyone else’s dessert. “But Jazzy there are children starving in Africa”, I hear you say. Yes, there are people starving everywhere and it is genuinely upsetting. However, wasting food isn’t the reason I’m inhaling my best friends half eaten chocolate fondant at Max Brenner and washing it down with a litre of ice cream. I am quite simply, a mess. A glorious mess but a mess nonetheless (note to self: call Dr Seuss for book deal).

I should clarify that I’m not telling you your life lacks meaning if it lacks grandeur. I’m not saying a Mercedes is better than a Toyota or a job at Clayton Utz is better than a job at Footlocker. None of that could be further from the truth. What I’m saying is that if you’re working at Footlocker but you want to work at Clayton Utz and have fallen victim to the “good enough” mentality at the expense of your dreams, then what the fuck are you doing? What am I doing? What are WE doing?

We, my friend, are ridin’ dirty in our 2007 Toyota Corolla’s doing the bare minimum. Or at least I am. I’m getting by thinking that because I work a full-time job and train once, sometimes twice a day during the week I need the weekends to rest and recharge. So I laze around by the pool and do a variation of nothing as a reward for my “hard work” LOL. What a load of shit. I’m in some of the best years of my life and in the scheme of things, all I have is time. I’m single with no kids and no major responsibilities - unless of course you count watering the garden and feeding the pet fish that my Mum has foolishly entrusted me with (Big mistake, HUGE). Essentially I have the kind of quiet time that Mums and Dads would kill for. Rather than take advantage of it I’m doing deep dive web searches asking questions like “What are the characteristics of a Cancer moon sign?” and “Is anal bleaching dangerous?”. Both intriguing topics but probably not a top priority. For the avoidance of doubt – Cancer moons are emotional and deep. Anal bleaching is 50/50. Depends who you ask and whether or not you give the ‘do it yourself’ kit a crack at home (see what I did there 😉).

Like many people I could sit here and tell you that I’ve been going through some things which have made it difficult to want to write. And that would be true. I could also say that covid has affected my life in ways I never thought possible. Also true. I could write you a list of excuses as to why I’ve determined that simply showing up in the world every day is good enough. But the thought of that makes me want to hurl up the two maxibons I just ate in very quick succession. I do not feel sorry for myself for lacking the discipline to sit at this computer and write about the weird shit that goes through my head every day. In fact, I’m just disappointed. Disappointed in the life that I find myself settling for. I genuinely thought I was better than this.

Am I better than this? God I hope so.

Sometimes you have to call yourself out on your own shit and as I get older, I find it easier and easier to eat humble pie. By eat I mean I take a tiiiiiny bite of the crust because there’s a hot pool of shit in there and I’m not quite ready to flip the lid on that bad boy. Nevertheless, I’m moving away from the weird as fuck ideology of perfectionism and instead soaking up character flaws and vulnerability. Two things that if you ask the Astrologer from Woman’s Day, are apparently difficult for a Scorpio like me to do. To be fair old Esmeralda would have been right once upon a time. Hiding behind facades was an integral part of growing up for me and something that in hindsight, I extracted a lot of value from. Getting to know the shittiest parts of yourself is a life-long quest and one that if you do right, will have you retracing misplaced footsteps all the way back to the school yard (for the record, 10 year old Jazzy could be a real c*nt). My mistakes, crappy attitudes and fears are things that I try to shine a spotlight on. Especially when I write. So I don’t feel any shame in saying that I really just suck right now. I’m failing and have absolutely no excuse for it. I’ve been lazy in the pursuit of my dreams.

The dumbest thing is, I know I’m good at this. “Gosh Karen you can’t just go around telling people you’re good at things”. Ohhhhhhh but you can. That’s not ego talking – it’s purpose. The kind that you feel in your bones. The sort that makes you spring out of bed in the morning. If you don’t know the difference and you’re feeling triggered by my assurance, do everyone a favour and see a Therapist. You’ll probably find out that you’re a lazy fucker too. You’re also likely to be scared, uncertain and insecure. Guess what? So is everyone else. Join the club and make it your mission in life to have your membership revoked. That’s it. That’s the aim.  All day, every day. But I mean you could also just be a straight up tosser. Plenty of those people exist too.

What I need to remember is that life is infinitely better when I’m writing. Unfulfilled purpose is a heavy burden to bear and it’s seriously annoying to carry around, especially when you eat as much ice cream as I do. If there’s one plan I should stick to it’s the one that says I’m leaving this world with a trophy, not a participation ribbon.

Time to get off the bench.

With love, always

J