Don’t Bother Me, I’m Busy Stressing About How Busy I Should Be

21 Jun

For the record, lest you think I’m an arrogant jerk (which I may be anyway), my Father’s Day post was only about 15% serious. I think it’s easy to tell, but I kept thinking about it when it was “out there.” Let’s balance it out right now: I’m a shit father and your daddy is awesome.

Okay. I feel better. Moving on . . . .

Here’s a nice essay about how people think they need to be busy all the time. Sadly, I have to include myself in this.

Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day.

If I have a lazy day, I feel like crap. I should have done this. I should have done that. Everyone else is accomplishing what they set out to do today, but me . . . 

Late morning and early afternoon are especially difficult for me. Generally, no matter what I’m doing, I think I should be doing something else. Then . . . evening, when leisure is socially accepted.

I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter.

This scares people, that most of what we do doesn’t matter one goddam bit, but it’s comforting to me. I take the long view: Will this matter in five, ten, fifteen years? Whatever you’re doing, arguing with your partner, trying to get something “just right,” ask yourself how important it really is.

Example. One of our stupid domestic animals barfed on a couch. It looked like hummus. Just . . . gross. I clean up fresh messes right away, but this blob was deposited in the middle of the night, so it had been sitting there awhile when I walked right by it Thursday morning. An hour later, Jennifer saw and left it. Yesterday, I noticed it, like, twelve times. Oh shit, I have to clean that damn mess up.

It’s still there.

I have some guilt over this. To help me get over this guilt I remind myself that “most of what we do doesn’t matter.” In five years the couch will be gone. It won’t matter that I let the hummus barf sit there for 24 hours. It feels like an minor emergency now, but it’s the tiniest blip.

Each day I there are dozens of situations or decisions that are ultimately insignificant.

  • Oh my God, I forgot to feed the girls lunch. And dinner. 
  • I’m wearing the same clothes for the third straight day.
  • I confused desert and dessert in a blog post.
  • I laid around and did absolutely nothing all day.

Short term, I stress about this stuff. But really. Who frickin’ cares?

We’re all staying busy and worrying about every little thing when we should be outside sitting under a tree reading a book sipping on ultra-sweet lemonade. Each day is a challenge to remember to chill the eff out.

So, people, chill the f**! out with me.

3 Responses to “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Busy Stressing About How Busy I Should Be”

  1. 4eternalsunshine June 21, 2013 at 8:36 am #

    LOL… hummus barf is easier to remove when dry…I did the same thing the other day!!:))

    • fightn4it June 21, 2013 at 12:30 pm #

      ugh…I just had a falafel pita at the Pita Pit with hummus on it!

  2. 4eternalsunshine June 22, 2013 at 9:26 am #

    Now….I probably will never be able to eat hummus again!

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