Midnight. Not the Taylor Swift kind where it’s full of introspection and creative genius. No, I’m talking about real, mid-week, monotonous, midnights. Where I lost track of time and am suddenly brushing my teeth under bathroom lights and tallying up the maximum hours of sleep I can get if I go to bed right now. Because apparently I’m an adult now (sources confirm) and going to bed anytime after 10:30 feels like a mistake. What’s my point again? Oh right, I was talking about brushing my teeth at midnight. Well, in the midst of my pre-sleep routine, imagine my surprise at a loud crash and the sound of shattered ceramics hitting hardwood floors. My roommate, Anna, slept through the entire ordeal. Which is either a testament to her ability to sleep deeply or its proof of my over-dramatization.
Let me backup a few hours. In what I considered to be an act of productivity and interior design wisdom, I decided to finally take my breakfast for dinner print (courtesy of Chancy Cannon), place it in my discount picture frame, and hang it up. Simple. Easy. What could go wrong? Unfortunately, I am no handyman (surprise!). My hot pink tool box, however, does a great job of making me feel perfectly qualified to tackle any at home project that might come my way. Generally, this works out fine. So imagine my shock and terror when the nails I had hammered (with difficulty) into my walls did not hold.
My beautiful risograph had pulled nails out of plaster and on its journey to the ground, took a stack of polka-dot mugs down with it. When the mugs shattered across the hardwood floors and woke me from the classic “wash your face fast so that you don’t get murdered in the brief moment you have your eyes closed (ifkyk)” trance, my heart sank. Not out of alarm, but out of disappointment in myself. I knew I had half-assed the hang job. I questioned whether it would hold and ultimately decided that it would probably be fine. Most things turn out ok! Glass half full! It’ll all workout! I’m not trying to make a statement on optimism or hope, both of which I try to maintain in my own life, but I am trying to draw attention to the consequences of carelessness.
As I swept up the shattered pieces of mug from my kitchen floor and looked down upon them covering the topmost layer of my trash can, I knew I only had myself to blame. I knew the nails might not hold, I knew what lay on the table beneath it, and I still shrugged my shoulders and went upstairs. The truth is that it’s easy to be careless with things that can only come back to bite yourself in the butt. I am allowed to make that call. I get to weigh the risk and rewards of my actions because they only affect me. But I am a human who lives with and around other humans and many of my decisions do affect others, whether directly or indirectly.
The connection of how things affects others directly is easy. Or at least it should be. Taking pause to consider the people around you and checking in with yourself to make sure you care. If not, then we probably need to have an entirely different conversation (another day, perhaps). We acknowledge who lies in the periphery of our tunnel vision and we choose the path that will have the least resistance for all parties involved. Indirect consequences on others is a whole other story. It requires another step in your thought process. We have to think about the trickle down effect of your actions.
When we make decisions that seemingly only affect us, whether good or bad, we have to think about the way that our own love for ourselves can influence the people around us. If I am constantly bearing the consequences of my bad decisions, then I am on a slippery slope to unhappiness and my own bad attitude can seriously affect my relationships. It is in this way that I think half-assing can indirectly have a negative effect on others. To treat myself with kindness, to take time to do things right for others and myself, makes me a better friend, daughter, and hero (to many of you, at least).
As I throw the shattered remnants of three, green and white polka dot mugs, I am challenged to be better. To be more thoughtful and thorough. I challenge you in turn to stop half-assing your way through life. Do a few things with excellence rather than 10 things passably. But, don’t be afraid to try new things and take risks, just put safeguards in place to protect yourself and others. Move the proverbial mugs off the table and then go to bed, knowing you have done your best.
I did hang the print back up. This time with six velcro commands strips. Not sure if that is also another version of doing things halfway, but it looks great and I’m better prepared now to bear the consequences of my own failure. After all, there’s only one lone mug left.
Your Trashiest Friend,
B
