I'm leaving Japan in 16 weeks and it's scary. I feel like I need to be on the road to my next success NOW.
Really, I feel positive. I know I've got a good future ahead of me. I've got my sweet baby boy-
"Tiffany, he's not a baby."
"Oh, really? Shut up. He's my baby boy and he will be my baby boy when he's 50. Got it? Good. Where was I."
-and I've got a trip to Yakushima Island coming up. I'm going back to America where I'm going to see my family and the beautiful beaches and birds and going to enjoy the awesome theme parks with friends... I can't wait to take Knox to Sea World. He's going to be so excited to touch the manta rays and feed the dolphins, and to see the whales jumping and the giant walrus clapping his fins. I can't wait to see his face. I have my pension from Japan to look forward to. I'm going to try gardening (eek).
This is my life. This is what I'm doing with my life. I'm not on my own designated time line, and I guess that's how I'm stressing myself out.
There are certain people I feel accountable to. They have helped me and never let me down or at least believe in me, and I want to succeed for them. I want to say, "Look what I'm doing! See, your effort wasn't in vain."
Ha... before I sat down I felt like... shit. Damn. Fuck. But now that I put it out there in a place where I can organize my thoughts I don't feel like that. Writing it made me realize it's not true. Sure, I'm leaving Japan and I don't know how the heck I'm gonna buy Christmas presents. It's easy to sit here and worry about there. But it doesn't achieve anything, and by the time you get there things are totally different.
At this moment I'm a successful 32 year old woman living in an exotic place, with a beautiful child and dinner plans. Wait... I think I'm 33. Hahahahaa. Sometimes I'm driving down the street lamenting that I haven't published a book over which I'm negotiating screenplay options. I'm sitting at my desk worrying about all the time I wasted on facebook when I should've been studying for the LSAT that I'm sure I'll never pass. I'm not the problem. Where I am isn't the problem. These thoughts I allow to live are the problem.
I can worry pointedly about a vague future that isn't here now. I think it would be just as useful to mentally celebrate the moment I accepted a trophy or held my baby for the first time. The vague future events that I suspect should cause worry are even less real than the past events I celebrated in actual time. And reliving happy events sounds more beneficial than dreading events that may never occur. It's arbitrary anyway. Neither living in the past or future achieves much.
OK, I think I'm better.