I just watched The Rock’s “Year in Review” on Instagram. I don’t have an Instagram. I don’t understand Instagram. Instagram is like Facebook without words… just like Twitter is Facebook lite. Maybe it’s an artifact of my age, but Facebook is the gold standard for me right now. Well, Facebook at this blog (I only said that to not hurt this blog’s feelings).
The Rock had an amazing 2016. Movies, performances, and promotions. Meanwhile, I’m sitting at a messy desk contemplating if I should do my whimpy 15 minute workout (which consists entirely of Just Dance on the Wii U), or buy groceries (we need butter to make cookies, which is in direct contradiction to my whimpy 15 minute workout which consists entirely of Just Dance on the Wii U).
2017 just rolled around, and I filled myself with optimistic promises. I would come out of the gate swinging. I would charge forward and make this year a better one… a more successful one… the Year of Billy. But here I am, watching The Rock on the internet and contemplating what type of butter I should get. I like Land o Lakes, but my wife likes Kerrygold.
It all makes me feel so… unaccomplished. The dreams I had as a kid are remaining dreams as an adult. I blame a lot of it on “peaking early.” 2013-2015 were an exciting time for me. I traveled the world. I got published for the first time. I achieved my doctorate. I was on top of the world. I was popular… a veritable Rock in my little circles. But now what? I need to pull a Robert Downey Junior or a Shawn Michaels… come back and be bigger than before.
It’s hard to do that when you’re contemplating butter.
Well, I need to get to the grocery store. The people-taking-our-parking-spot to people-being-civilized ratio goes up as night falls. I really want to end this post with some sort of optimistic send-off… that I’ll make 2017 my bitch or something.
Instead, I’m going to tell you the truth. I’m going to buy butter. I’m going to come home and do my whimpy 15 minute workout which consists entirely of Just Dance on the Wii U. I’ll sit at my computer and write a few chapters of a novel or screenplay… not for success, but to push away the creeping thoughts of inadequacy. Of Not-Being-The-Rock. Of everything being downhill and never achieving the modest level of notoriety I once had.
I’ll go to sleep.
I’ll wake up.
I’ll go to work.
Then I’ll repeat the process again.
(Except the buying butter part. We don’t need that much butter).