I unofficially declared this summer to be the summer of Sarah, and I did that because I wanted my last few months in Edmonton to be all about me. Selfish? Maybe. But it was something that I knew I needed after weeks and months and years of maneuvering my life around everybody else.
I thought that this would mean working out and eating well and writing lots, because those are all self-improve-y things that I know I need to work on. I wanted to become the best version of myself—making up for four long years of treating my body like trash in four short months.
That’s not happening. It started off well—I was running three times a week. I was working out every other day. I was buying groceries. But then something clicked—this wasn’t actually making my summer about me. This was putting my life into an (unfairly) extreme schema. I was spending more time improving myself (in between work and tutoring and fulfilling major human needs like sleeping) than actually enjoying myself. And doesn’t that completely negate the point of making this summer about me in the first place?
I think so.
So, I decided to refine my approach a little bit. And by refine, I mean now I’m just doing whatever I want. Anything. Anytime. With anyone.
And it’s awesome.
That means that sometimes I do work out. And sometimes I do buy groceries. And I get an average of 8 hours of sleep a night. But it also means I eat Oodle Noodle or Panda Hut Express more than I should. And I sometimes lay in bed binging seasons of Law and Order SVU for several days. And I go on impromptu road trips with my boyfriend where we spend too much money and eat too much food.
And I’m so fucking happy.
I have a little over 2 months left in my hometown before I head west and I want to make the best of it. I’ve done the time (4 years of university, a lifetime of being a doormat, et cetera) and now I’m going to do whatever I want.