On my crazy brain.

I'm going to talk about me for a minute. This post is going to be entirely self-indulgent and more than likely will lead to no conclusion of relevance, to me or otherwise. To be honest, it's more so I can just get these words down and out of my head.

I'm an overthinker. I always have been. Ever since I can remember, every minute of every day, I'm thinking about something. Sure, there are things I can do to slow the train down - working jobs where I have to think on my feet keeps the noise down to a dull roar as I cycle through step after step in my systems. But for the most part, my mind is almost never still.

Which comes in handy, of course. When there is need for it, it kicks into high gear. All afternoon I've been sorting out things in my head about the business I used to run, recalling everything I've learned both there and in culinary school, and evaluating what needs to be different and what needs to be learned in preparation for the next big crazy idea. A lot of pacing, muttering to an empty house. A lot of rolled-back eyes and fluttering eyelids.

But once the words are down and the email's sent, my head's still on fast forward. And without a direction, it spins out of control. I find myself fragile and neurotic, thinking about sandwich architecture one moment and the inevitable death of my beloved pets the next. I think about romance and moving and all the details of my life in between, what I can plan for, what I can steer, what eventualities and possibilities I can prepare for. I pick out names for my children and floorplans for my home.

And in the end, not much has changed. Some of these plans are old, revisitations to thoughts I've had hundreds of times before. Some are new, and join the buzzing hive always sitting in the back of my head. And I settle back on my couch to try to drown it out in television and video games, always afraid, always anxious, and always, always prepared.

On giving thanks.

I am thankful for you.

To those forged to me in blood and whiskey, stoops and attics and trials of the infinitesimal years, who know who I've been and have faith in what I will become, I am thankful for you.

To those who stand with me in the weeds, on the rail, fighting back the hordes with the grinders and the stones and the deadly smiles, I am thankful for you.

To those who taught me the way of the fire, the knife, the pint glass and milk pitcher, the spreadsheets and resource management, I am thankful for you.

To those bound to me with miles of aluminum and fiber optics, who embrace me for eight seconds and love my face, I am thankful for you.

To those of the quiet nights, the healing couch, the clouds of smoke, the wings and television screens, I am thankful for you.

To those of the loud nights, the exuberant pints and rocks glasses, the music and the clicking of billiard balls, the rush of the subway and thunder of sidewalks, I am thankful for you.

And to those who rouse me from my slumber, who take me by the hand and drag me back into the light, I am so, so thankful for you.

I love you. May you see yourselves as I see you, beautiful and bright, worthy of all the love the world can afford. May you find a home in me. When you are hungry, let me nourish you. When you are cold, let me warm you. When you are afraid and empty, let me fill you with your self, strong and confident. What I offer you is vast and powerful, for it is from you, of you, always you.

And let us stride into the black together, eyes ever on the open road. Let us grow together, our stories etched into our skin. Time marches always beautifully on, and let us march on with it. Together.

On being oneself.

What does it mean to you to be you? Can you define it? Do you have the words to explain it?

We all know the phrases. Be comfortable in your own skin. Know yourself. Do what you love, be strong and confident. We use these phrases time and time again because, I suppose, they work. Why else would we use them?

Is it like being in love? When you feel like yourself, do you find it difficult to put into words, even though you know it in your heart?

Poetry break. Wonder.

Wonder's such a fascinating word;
calling visions - eyes as wide as pie,
hearts and minds as open as your arms
that night I saw you last. I thought I heard
your laughter in the bar, the ocean's sigh,
that dream I had, the sound of my alarm.
I watch as you, with wonder, blithely roam.
I wonder if you're ever coming home.

On absence.

There is a tranquility in absence.

I'm traveling a lot lately, as I'm sure you guys already know. And to me, there's two types of travel, the aggressive absorption of diving into a city, seizing it by the tail, and making it my own, and the quiet immersion into a lack of reality. Paris, not two weeks ago, was the former.

Tonight, I begin the latter here in Myrtle Beach. My room looks out over the ocean, the steady, humble roar of the waves replacing the sticky grind of wheels on a moist street. Standing on my balcony, I see no lights, no other people living their lives behind brick and glass. I see only the black of night stretching on into the distance.

There is a peace here I forget exists sometimes.

And I've got a week to soak in it.

On whirlwinds.

Make no bones about it, it doesn't matter how crazy your brain can get; nothing's crazier than two brains working on the same idea.

Science.

(mic drop)

On work philosophy.

I learned a couple of things early on in my bartending career to be valuable words to live by when you're working behind a counter.

1) Work clean.

2) Newton's First Law. (A body in motion tends to stay in motion, a body at rest tends to stay at rest.)

Taken objectively, these two rules seem like something you'd say at a job interview to seem obnoxiously hard-working and sycophantic. But the fact is, adhering to these two rules actually makes your life significantly easier.

If you train yourself to work clean, to wipe off your tools as you go and concentrate on keeping your workspace orderly and neat, you require WAY less brain and body power to clean up at the end of your shift. Everything's where it needs to be, cleaning is light and thorough, and you get things done faster and more relaxedly than if you had a giant mess to address.

As to the First Law, try this little experiment. Cook dinner for yourself, and the instant you don't have anything cooking-related to do, take out the garbage. Then finish cooking, sit down to eat, then go sit down on the couch and watch an episode of The Office. Now take out the recycling.

So much harder, isn't it?

Just keep moving. When you finish one task, move on to the other. When you beat down a rush, set yourself up for the next one. It takes far less effort to just keep your momentum going than it does to stop and start and stop and start again. You can wear yourself out by the end of your shift by taking breaks. I'm not saying don't ever post up when you need to - hell, everyone's human, and a proper shift should take some of the jam out of your doughnut. Just don't post up if you don't need to.

So yeah, every interview I have, I make it a point to mention my work philosophy, whether they get it or not. Working hard is one thing. Anyone can work hard. But working smart is what gets you to the end of the day on time and still standing. Give it a shot, see how it works out for you.