(Late) Beginnings

I got the idea to write this at about 5:30am in the midst of pondering whether or not to go to the gym, after spending all night sending my portfolio to clients, talking to my mother, contemplating starting my astro lab, and watching a netflix rom com about a woman (Sarah Jessica Parker) who manages a professional life and a family all at the same time. This one sentence probably tells you more about my life than any short biographical statement has any hope of doing. So here we are.

At the moment it is approximately 6:47am, and I'm writing this while walking precisely 3.8 mph on the treadmill. It's still early enough where there are mostly townies here (read: people who live in Hanover, NH who are NOT students), and thus the people watching that rivals that on Madison Ave has not yet taken hold of the gym. I'll admit, I'm as guilty of it as the rest; the girl on the elliptical next to me earlier looked like a frenetic chihuahua on a walk, and I can't help wondering whether or not she has ever heard the phrase, "resistance training." No matter. My face, which was rapidly transitioning from the hue of stewed tomato to overripe plum at the time, certainly could be mocked as much as chihuahua girl. But what am I saying - it would seem more relevant to discuss why on earth I've discovered the once fascinating but now plebeian art of writing a beat at 6:47am in the morning.

Well for starters, it wouldn't make sense any other way. My best ideas only ever come at weird hours of the day, or more likely, that space between night and day that college students refer to as the end of a good night out, and the rest of the world views as that time 30 mins before your alarm goes off, when you inevitably wake up and wonder whether or not to roll over or just get out of bed. 

Beyond that, however, it suddenly seems appropriate. I'm a senior in college, in my last quarter, graduating in June, and moving to New York, NY. On the corner today, listening to music post-workout, I was struck with a sudden pang of premature nostalgia that nearly took my breath away, and it occurred to me that this next year will probably be filled with more dramatic change than any I've had before, and let me tell you, there's been a lot of change in the last few.  I started college pre-med, and ended up a fashion photographer. Neat. It's a walking cliché to say that life will drastically change when you stop being a student and start being a professional, but it's true - in fact, the only time before then that life probably changes more dramatically is puberty - but you'd need to be a funnier, thicker-skinned, less self-conscious, and more self deprecating writer than I to deal with that. I have two words for you: hell no.

So for whatever reason, this morning at 'round about 5:30am, I had a moment of clarity: I'm going to start writing a (hopefully) daily and (potentially) humorous beat, if only to make myself laugh a little more each day and appreciate the small things. Any extra chuckles on your end are a bonus in my book. I've written this as I'm on the treadmill, getting a smoothie, drinking coffee, and sitting in a library that looks like a museum installation - again a decent summation of my life. I'm coupling this newfound writing shenanigan with eating better, working out on a regular schedule, and sleeping for a certain number of hours every day (though when those hours occur is negotiable). In college student language, this is called, getting your shit together before you leave college, though ironically, I'm doing it during senior spring, also known as, the time college students realize they are almost not college students anymore, and thus decide to throw their shit at the fan one last time.  Maybe I'll do some of that too, for good measure. Most people embark on this sort of thing 'round about New Year's, but per usual, I'm a little late to the game. So here we are.  Better late than never, right?

Until next time,

Maggie