Because Life is Exactly What We're Experiencing...

I used to fret a lot about a lot of things...

What to wear...how I'd pay for things (still do this some times)...what people would think if I (finish however you'd like)...how did that come off to (whomever)...I hope I didn't (offend, affect, hurt, hinder, anger, sadden, disrespect, burden...again whomever)...What to wear (Yes, this was my biggest fret, and now that I work NYC...just off of "Fashion Ave" the fret has resurfaced ~ learning to deal!)...

But after a whirlwind since about March of this year (the day I landed in SA)...I fret less, forget more, and forgive myself for being myself. I like clothes. I love hip hop. I work hard...can't help it. I love even harder...again, can't help it. I hate foolishness, though I sometimes participate in it...hell, it has its place in life too. I miss my friends. I adore my family. Fa$t is just what I prefer! (unscramble/decode at leisure) And, you know what...I'm cool with all of that.

Yes, I'm in law school (and business school). Yes, I work in a modest office, surrounded by uber talented people, dwarfed by rods of amazing clothes instead of red-wells, dark walls. My CEO plays Drake, African music, and 80's rock (all in the same day). And my boss drops an "F-bomb" or two on a regular basis but she gets things DONE... a real "make it happen" kind of girl. It's a privileged life for a girl like me. I love it!

I sit next to attorneys on the train and they have no idea they're in the company of a future professional peer. I watch "the corporate blue shirts" shuffle off to their 9-5 (well 10-6) cubicles and corner offices each day. I pass homeless people, cigarette peddlers, and newspaper passer-outers along the way. I stop at some random spot every morning and get a small or medium coffee and fix it just like my grandma did when I was a kid (light and sweet...but unfortunately have succumbed to Equal and Splenda instead of the regular stuff...yeah, it'll kill me, but so could a bus...I digress). I greet the doorman. I crack my computer and click the keys until the day's work is done. And at some evening hour I saunter along the sidewalk, the train tracks, and the streets to find my way home.

I play with my son/dog. I eat dinner with my Nanna. Then I laugh with my mom. I $peed up the street to catch a Fa$t hug. And I'm off to chill out with my BFF for a bit. I ease down the road to find my way home. And there you have it folks, it's tomorrow already. [REPEAT]

That is life, for me, these days. And you know what, I'm good with that.

I still daydream about the kind of days I'll have when MIDDY S. Enterprises takes off. I still drift off into space wondering if this is how it was supposed to be. I still look up and ask God, "am I getting this right?" And I never stop imagining how things would have been if I'd done things differently.

But you know what??? At the end of the day (or the beginning of tomorrow) "IT IS WHAT IT IS!" (Pardon the use of such overused phrases...they are however, very applicable and true in this case.)

Life is what we're experiencing. Living is what we're doing. Good, bad, or otherwise. We're here. This is it! PERIOD. No more, no less.

So I'll end this thing the same way I end most things these days ... ***Kanye-shrug*** I'm really not caring beyond the moment (or at least trying to look as such).

(Goes on with her life)

No closing...no profound statement...no creative crescendo...no happy ending...no poignant promise...no pregnant pause...

This is it folks...I'm done...

So why am I still writing.

I guess I can't even really accept the fact that it's over...but IT still goes on.

(Living...)

(Yep, still doing it...)

(Why are you still reading?)

(You are missing out on something.)

(Oh well, this is a part of life too...)

Okay, damn. I'm done.

For real this time.

(You people just don't know when to quit.)

(Neither do I.)

(Need to get to work...but goofing off is a part of the work day...believe me, the finance people baked that into your salary...it's part of the bottom line.)

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P.S. Folks, I wrote this last night before bed, copied and pasted it into this here text box. Please do not "fire yourself" by blogging, tweeting, poking, IM'ing, texting, or whatever 'ing you do during work hours. I told you the story of my day, but I couldn't tell you everything.

I'm a "Night [W]ri[t]er!"

Fin.