Why Is Busy A Bad Thing?


Half a gram cracker smeared with Nutella lay limp out of my mouth as I pressed export on the Premier video editing program. 1 hour and 30 minutes remained. I tucked the computer away on the unfamiliar night stand and rolled over to take one last check at the five preset alarms on my phone. Because you never know when our beloved form of communication will fail and I will be doomed to not wake up right on time. Then I checked Facebook. Twitter. Instagram, and three separate email accounts once more.

When I was younger I begged for a life of experience, and to a non justifiable extent, fame. At the age of 23 I am sleeping at my aunt and uncles house in Gruene, Texas due to a pansy fear of returning home in the rain. I’m jolted awake (please forgive me phone for ever doubting your abilities) at 5am to a full days worth of task crammed into two hours before driving back to Austin for 8 hours of meetings and four more hours of work to follow. My hair is the opitomy of mess (mainly because it exudes my life’s permanent state) and the Chipotle burrito bowl container is sliding around my floor mat 24 hours later. Clearly dropping it in a trashcan would take away farrr too much time from the days task.

My bumper-to-bumper drives are taunted by the words of others saying my generation acts like busy is cool. And that being busy is an excuse for not managing time well.

To them I say suck it. Or more so, I ask why? Why must we act like being buys is a bad thing?

As a sophomore in college I can remember sitting around on a Saturday like it was my job. Literally, it was my job. I sat with my roommates and watched TV. We poured a glass of apple juice, and watched more TV. Around mid afternoon we would force ourselves off the couch for a Target run. Yes, the most active part of our day was spending $100 or more on things we would never use. Or apartment decor we would hate a week later.

Now, if I have just one hour of down time I treat it like what I would assume an addict treats his last hit. It is pure gold. I run around the perimeter of my two room apartment five times, jump on the bed for three minutes, then settle in to watch all the 20 reality shows I’ve DVRed. Because busy girls spring for the extra $25 a month to make sure they don’t give way on their shows, this I am sure. I do it all while simultaneously reading the books I have purchased with good intentions of finishing before my eye sight gives way.

So yes, while I understand why people think we are wasting time being busy, I also think they are not factoring in that we are really just wasting time sitting in traffic.


But honestly, we are not wasting time. We are young, and being busy isn’t a bad thing. We have dreams and they take more than a few hours to fulfill. I want to fight and push and beg and plead now so I don’t have to when I’m 60. Though lets be real, I’ll be doing it when I’m 60 because my generation isn’t capable of sitting still.

All I’m trying to say is that I don’t think being busy is a bad thing because I am having fun doing it. Though, don’t ask my mom, she will dispute my accusations, as I call her in tears of alarming concern more times than is acceptable for a 23-year-old to do so. But the average age children stop asking their parents for help now is 41, so really it’s fine.

As long as you are doing what you love, busy isn’t an option. Busy is something you desire. And one day you will find someone else who makes you not want to be as busy. You two will fall madly in love and things will slow down in an harmonious way. Because I also truly believe in fairytales. And that is all. The end.

The Thing That Saved My Career (Before I Had One)


A break-up. That’s what saved my career. There I was, laying on the floor of my “Shit-Box” efficiency, so it has been deemed, crying past the point of social acceptance. Between swollen eyes and panting breaths I did the one thing I knew best. Pulled out my computer and started working. It was 3am, and the only thing I knew. I had been stuck in a place of wanting a career and wanting to live life. It seemed in that moment the choice had been made.

Before the break up my time had been split wanting a career but failing to jump, and wanting a life but failing to live up. It was not in that moment of change that I was forced to focus on my career, but instead forced to look at the cards in front of me, and make the best of them.


I became a “Yes Man.”

A potential client asked for a meeting: Yes Man.

An existing client wanted something new: Yes Man.

I was asked to attend Fashion Week: Yes Man.

Someone wanted me to redo their condo: That can be marketing right? Yes Man.


Sure, most of this was an attribute to me hiding behind my work. Staying busy as to not think about the life blow that had just been dealt. But in it I found comfort, and honestly a whole lot of truth. People always say to face your fears head on, but for once what I thought was hiding from fear was working really well.

Clients kept coming. Projects kept coming. My days started to fill with work, and at a moments break I realized I was really happy. Not that I wasn’t happy before, and not that there isn’t still a part of me that hurts, but for once in my life everything I was doing was working and it felt really good.

My break up taught me not to be afraid to take risk or push the limits. To always ask for what I want, and above all else believe in myself. I dated someone who told me time and time again that I was going to do great things, but it wasn’t until they let me go and had no other choice that those things started happening. There is no spite, there are no bad feelings, Life moves on and you learn lessons like bravery and boldness at the times they are most important to have. My break up saved the career I now have, and it will forever be a reason I strive for more.