PACE

One of the things they don't tell you about New York--is that the pace is exhausting. Or, that it can be exhausting, if you're a person with a dream. Or, in my case, if you're a person with many dreams (yes, like my closet, I should throw a number of those stragglers to the curb) it can be so exhausting that you're too tired to be tired--fatigue takes energy too, you know.

As of late, I've become painfully aware of an obsessive part of my personality that I denied until now. And I figure that this blog is as good a place as any to start to deal with it. So, here it is...

I'm a desperate, compulsive, fix it before I'm forty, build it and they will come, leap and the net will appear--NESTER. Yes, it's true. And, living in the land of opportunity (aka New York & CT) where possibility lies around ever corner, only feeds that obsession. Because there's always something you CAN do. It doesn't matter when it is or where you are. You CAN make a call, scribble a note, type an email or even do a few pilates exercises on the subway to get in-touch with your deepest abdominal muscles. Breathe, two, three, four. Yes, you can do something to move your tired ass a few inches closer to the promised land. And because you can, you do. And fighting for your dreams in that single focused way, so that every minute counts and your even tempted to scribble notes on the TP while you're using the john, is...Well, I'm too tired to even type it.