I received my very first issue of the New Yorker magazine, and I was uncharacteristically excited for it. Every mail day for the past week I’ve come home from work eagerly checking the mailbox. I signed up for this magazine weeks ago, so it was about time I got my first physical copy of it. I started to read it on my iPad and iPhone last week, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to hold something in my hands and read it, and I’m glad I finally can. It comes at an amazing time because I’ve been itching to read the news ever since I cut out RSS feeds a few weeks ago. I’m even visiting some of my favorite sites on a regular basis because I need my fix. Why did I quit in the first place?
I was tired of feeling burdened to go through and read my RSS feeds every day, and I was tired of the “blog-y” type of writing, like hyperbolic and click-baity headlines. It’s not that much better going to their sites manually and just checking to see what’s out there, but it has helped me reclaim some time. I find myself checking my phone less. I’m checking Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat a lot less than in the past, and instead I’m reading newsletters in Mail or reading stuff I’ve saved in Instapaper. I’m still learning more about myself in this regards, which sounds kind of overzealous but whatever, so I still need more time to really evaluate this part of myself. My desire to check my phone constantly is diminishing, though, and that’s a good thing.
I want to be a better and more voracious reader. That was my goal when I set it when I set it, which was whenever ago. I’m not amazing yet (if yet will ever happen), but it’s all about the journey, and I like it. I’ll get frustrated for sure, but that’s part of the journey. Remember how excited I was about photography? I think I have ADD. No, seriously, disregard the fact that I used to meditate 15 minutes every morning for the past year, and the fact that I really don’t have ADD, but I think I have ADD. I’m like Dug from Up yelling Squirrel! at every new thing that comes into my periphery. New Yorker! Books! Missoula! Photography! Working out! Writing! Girls! Bullshit!
I’m having fun, though. I think. I honestly don’t know. Like I wrote about a few days ago, it feels like I’m floating. Not sure what I’m doing, but I’m doing it anyway. Just seeing where life wants to take me, with no plan or goals or whatever. Just trying to beeeeeeeee. Is it working?