Sometimes I forget the things that make me human. I get so caught up in my work, caught up in recording what makes other people human, that I forget to take care of myself.
Last night I bought a pair of basketball shoes and a ball. Those shoes are damn comfy! I want to wear them all the time. I considered wearing them to bed. If I hadn’t walked home in them already, I would have. (Aside: why do Americans wear their shoes in the house at parties? I still don’t get it.) I feel like I could slam dunk in those shoes. And they aren’t even the fanciest ones.
At a party the other day, another student told me “I like you, but you need to be less intense.” She was right, too: if were I to go on working without relaxing and taking care of myself, I’d have a heart attack one day. Plus, being all pent up doesn’t help your creativity. Insight never came from being a ball of stress. And so, basketball.