DISCLAIMER: I’m about to get uncomfortably real here for a second. Bear with me.
Today, I am not okay.
In fact, I feel about as far from okay as a person can get.
I’m homesick for a place that’s 14,397 kilometers away; I’m struggling to sleep and eat; and I’d like nothing more than to give the world and my new ten-second rule a callous middle finger.
Should I really be blogging then, if I’m feeling this disconnected from myself? Yes, for two reasons.
Originally, I planned to title this post “Ten Seconds to Happy,” but later on I make reference to one Ms. Kimmy Schmidt, and the jarring visual of a salty stick of meat draped in crinoline was too good to pass up. (Titus, you legend.) And besides, I’ve been hard at work channeling strength and self-love, so a metaphor for tough and beautiful seemed apropos.
So here’s the thing: happiness is only ten seconds away. Less, even. This might sound farfetched, but neuroscience and Netflix suggest otherwise.