On control

Part of this entry is me lamenting the state of our nation and the horrific fires in LA. I have a lot of sexy West Coast readers, so I just wanted to provide this warning in case you’re not in the mood to read yet another “take” on your real life. I love you. You can scroll to the Current Fixations where I talk about Bad Bunny!

It’s kind of crazy how I am perfect and can do everything right. This is how I feel when I get a head start on the newsletter instead of ramming through it on Monday after work.

I do have to flex my New Year, New Productivity by saying that I’m just on top of everything. I am topping my life. It’s the feeling of immediately doing dishes after you eat — and wanting to do so. I am trying to curate my life so that everything I do only reinforces this feeling and that I am in a feedback loop of slayage. I’m going to stick with this efficiency as much as I can to increase my internal shareholder value.

You never know when the world’s bleakness will hit you hardest, so you have to be optimized and prepared. You have to prepare yourself for the climate change our corporations worsened to burn your house down and for social media hordes to chastise your sadness since EVERYONE in LA is a rich celebrity. You must prepare yourself for the incoming administration no one voted for (tech bro oligarchy) and see which minority the discrimination wheel will turn on. You must prepare yourself to still have unique, strong thoughts as social media platforms shut down and sanitize themselves of blame while they stoke disinformation and discourage “feminine energy.”

As the world burns around us — but we in the distance stay far from the flames — how do we carry on? I keep thinking of this headline and seething: “Experts say Los Angeles rental prices will ‘inevitably’ spike post-wildfires.” We can donate our time, money, and supplies…and help a great deal, hopefully…but so much of the destruction in LA and around the world will never be renewed. These things happen because of the decisions of shadowy groups larger than us (no, not the Jews! But definitely AIPAC), but there are also straight-up evil people (like the guy who set a woman on fire on the subway).

So what do we do in the face of apocalypse? Do we continue going about our daily lives? Do we submit to hedonistic instincts? Do we somehow try to prepare for the metaphorical (or not) fires to reach us? In this turbulent cultural moment — following years of turbulent cultural moments — what should we do?

I’ve talked about this in a few newsletters and remembered talking about how the election results have me cultivating protection, which to me has meant living a healthier, stronger, curious life. I can feel a distinct uptick in the quality of my life since setting that objective. Then again, I’ve had time, energy, and circumstances to focus on these self-care practices, which I’m privileged to have. Maybe if things get truly dire, I’ll start partying every day and screaming in the streets. For now, protection — or really, control — provides peace in this crappy time.

But Sydney, if the world is ending, why are you isolating yourself and eating less junk food when you could be partying every day and screaming in the streets? Well, the world isn’t over yet, and our dedication can maybe somehow help us persevere through the literal climate. I am super cautious and cowardly, but maybe bettering myself will allow me to be stronger for my community.

Besides, I like feeling like I’m in control. Adulthood is a constant battering between You have to control everything! and You can’t control anything no matter how hard you try! My friend Bri asked me what I want from the universe this year, and I spent the day thinking about it. Last year, I really remember wanting more control over my life and schedule, feeling like I run myself down in the name of YOLO. This year I feel more of a handle on that, so I’m asking for the ability to prioritize everything better so I won’t feel as stressed in my pursuit of wholeness.

I spent a lot of time last week reading old entries of my newsletter, mostly from the first half of last year ‘til the summer. I learned a few things 1. I’m a better writer than I thought I was 2. I find 30 different ways to say depression 3. I am CONSTANTLY talking about the gym! I think I do it as a way to keep myself accountable in my fitness goals.

I spent what felt like all of last year thinking about the gym and probably going once or twice a week (or doing a long walk) while simultaneously not seeing results and getting frustrated. I also love working out and want to try prioritizing that high over others, so I am constantly reminding myself of how good I feel every time I leave. It’s just funny to see me constantly talk about it.

I just finished week 3 of working out 5 days a week, and I am finally seeing results on my body, in my mind, and in how I spend my time. I just want to keep on the hamster wheel as long as I can. I feel confident I can finish out January doing this. This week, I set a goal to keep at it through March until I go to Spain at the end of the month so I’ll have 15 weeks of 5 days a week before returning to 2x or 3x/week…I kinda think I can do it!

Any time I feel myself being intense, I want to capitalize on it. The hardest part so far of this new routine is scheduling it out and picking times I’m free enough for a workout and its associated commuting and hygienic aftercare. I decided to schedule out which days last week I was going to go, putting in 2-hour blocks on 5 of my freest days. I wanted to name the calendar event something fun, so I call them Kick ass, which sounds like something a well-meaning, quasi-Christian male influencer would say. Once I did that, I thought I might as well do that for the rest of the month to manifest sticking to my routine.

When picking these other days, I wanted to make sure that I was picking days I’d for sure have the time I wanted to set aside. I had some plans in flux and some people that texted me days ago wanting to hang and me not giving a concrete answer because I couldn’t fathom looking at my calendar. I ironed everything out, finally returning texts and scheduling the appointments of all the practical things I wanted to get done (read: hair appointment, BOGO spa days at that Governor’s Island spa that you can do for your birthday month).

Now I felt confident putting everything down and scheduling things I would normally let fall by the wayside or doing spontaneously. I also had all of my workouts planned. I looked at my full calendar with plans every day, even if those days are designated isolate-from-everyone days. I planned out my entire month!

During this process, I felt an almost erotic joy akin to Liz Lemon color coding a schedule realizing how I could fit things together. The nice Cobble Hill Planet Fitness is a few blocks from my Spanish classes that start soon. Oh wait, I could invite this friend to this thing I’m already going to. My office is near the Governor’s Island ferry terminal but I usually end work earlier than Meera…I could work in person, get a lil’ cardio in, and meet Meera at the ferry after she’s off from work and commutes over so we can have a spa night. Did it suddenly get hot in here?

When I finished planning, I felt the bad kind of post-nut clarity, the post-marathon blues. Emptiness. Well, I did it. I thought I was going to feel so productive, so together, such a project manager…and I felt nothing. Where’s the spontaneity? The procrastinator’s rush that I love and love to loathe? Maybe control isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

And even when you want to control things, the universe laughs in your face. It’s finally time for a new Drag Race season (I like everyone so far, but my favorites are Lexi Love, Jewels Sparkles, and Lydia Butthole Kollins. Butthole! And she’s from Pittsburgh), and I’ve resumed my weekend watches with two of my favorite Manhattanites.

Often, we watch at one of our apartments on the Upper West Side. Getting up there on a Saturday or Sunday is usually such a challenge due to train delays and construction. Transferring from the L to the 1/2/3 is enough to make me want to throw in the towel. Meera and I are, without fail, late every time. This time, I wanted to leave early to anticipate the craziness that would follow so we could hopefully offset our lateness.

Everything was going great, and we were going to be there early enough to grab Dunks for our crew. It was time for the last step, transferring to the 1 at 96th for that final stop at 103rd. We could practically taste the iced coffee…until the train sped past the stop. Everyone started looking around at each other. Then past 110th. No one heard any message from the conductor. Then past 116th. Are we going to the above ground stop? Sure enough, we passed 125th, too, slinking back underground for City College and stopping there. A massive horde of people, many of whom hoped to get off at one of the previous four stops, crowded the platform as we all slowly ascended out of the station just to go back down to the other side.

I was fuming. I can never get this trip right no matter how much I prepare. Whatever, maybe Dunks will heal us. Meera gets our online order ready, but y’all now how the Dunkin’ app is and the order wouldn’t go through. Whatever. We finally get off at 103rd (25 minutes after we were supposed to) and get our discombobulated selves onto our map apps to find the Dunks.

I type in the address and suddenly hear Sydney? I look up and see a guy I was friends with freshman year and his girlfriend who happen to live in the area. I was so beyond discombobbed that I STRUGGLED through a small talk convo with and almost forgot to introduce Meera. I forgot his girlfriend’s name immediately and then remembered it minutes after our convo. I felt like a crazy person. Interactions like that are enough to set me off for the rest of the day, but I was already done. We arrived at Dunks, so I ordered in person. The cashier knew some English but not enough for it to be an easy conversation for either of us as we both kept clarifying things for each other. The order still ended up being somewhat wrong. We were rain clouds entering our friend’s apartment, offsetting their sunshine for a while until we melted out of our frustration.

So I can’t control everything, and even when I do, I’m empty? Stupid! The answer is the same as my earlier questioning on how best to spend the apocalypse: by doing what feels good (self-defined, unless you think good is, like, making AI art or hurting innocent people?) whenever you can. Right now, being a freak in the gym feels pretty good, so I’m going to curate my calendar to make it happen. I’ll hit the hedonism switch again soon. Probably this weekend…once I’m done with my scheduled Kick ass at 6 p.m.