Mendez-Carlosa

How much you charge someone that wanted to buy a day of your life?  The day would still exist but you will not experience it, it will exist but you would have never felt it.

It is a theoretical question. 

Puzzled?

 

Picture this.    
A man walks into the café that you are sitting in reading a book whilst sipping your coffee after a very long day.  He is wearing a grey trench coat and sunglasses, he walks over to your nearest empty table and sits down. After a while, he stands up walks over to you and says:
‘I have a proposition’
You look up from the book and with a brief raise of an eyebrow you signal him to continue,
‘If a person of unlimited wealth-such as I-was to choose any day of your life for you to put aside, give up and never experience.  How much would you charge?’ 

Okay so how about now?  A question not so theoretical. 

Still Puzzled?

How much you charge someone to take a day of your life?

£100,000 £1 million or maybe £1 billion? Or is it priceless?

  

This is what I was asked today.  Okay, so no one approached me in a store, but something happened today that deposited this question into my mind.  What if?

I always knew how priceless my life was, but I never realized how priceless 24 hours of that life would be.

Would I give a day of my life away?  What if the chosen day was a good day?  What if that day would be the one to change my life?

 

It made me think of how much I value my future and the fact that I believe I have one.  I bear in my mind every unfortunate child around the world and even some of my friends that have died young as I say that word-FUTURE.  I bear in my mind all these people as I plan that FUTURE.

But do I do the same for every one of my days?

 

I know what I want to do in my life, I know what I want to have happen in my future.  But what am I doing now?

If I know where my goal, my target, my future lies.  Am I taking appropriate steps to get there?

 

Then the real question:  Was today really worth £1 billion?  If I were to look back in 10 years, 5 years, 1 year or even a week, would this day matter?

Would it even be remembered?

Has it changed my life?  Has it changed anyone’s life?

 

If a day- a good day- of my life would be priced between £1 billion-to-priceless.  Then why don’t I make everyday good?  Why do I spend endless minutes on adverse activities?

Why don’t I live each day as if it were worth £1 billion?

 

Consequently, I can’t help but  ask myself: What did I do today that would benefit me for the rest of my life?

 

Or much, much, much, much more importantly: What can I do today-NOW- that would benefit me for the rest of my life?

  

To everyone out there make your day really worth the money you would ask for it. 

To the go-getters out there, you are very few and far between, the world needs you.  To the rest of you- including me- get out there be a go-getter, an achiever, a self-starter and a high flier.  Life is far too precious for you not to be.

 

Good Luck

 

MCarlosa

xxx

      

I distinctly remember high school (i.e. secondary school for you Britons).  In the first years at the end of a semester we would sit around as you would have probably done in kindergarten and 'play'.  At one these 'play sessions' is the memory that most encapsulates my entire existence in state school education.

My school like most others would be described as poor (or stingy it depends who you spoke to), when the summer vacations drew painfully close our chose of 'play' consisted between the countless-watched two videos, a painful choice between 10 Things I Hate About You and Clueless.  This is where my reminiscence begins, I am sitting on those agonising plastic chairs and watching a modest 10-inch screen, where the heroine of the story (in 10 Things I Hate About You) earlier introduced as 'beautiful and deep' is wearing one of those spaghetti-strap summer dresses walking across the school lawn.  Her friend turns to her and the dialogue begins:
  'I know you can be overwhelmed and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?'
The confusion is now starting show in the young heroines face while she considers her answer, she too now turns and replies,
  'I think you can in Europe!'

Maybe, you too are now confused by the point I am trying to make.  If you have watched the movie you are probably less so, as the superficiality and should I say idiocy is all laid bare for you all to see.  This was my school that I shall name for confidentiality as High School X.      

Let me start again, I (like most other 19-year-olds) am facing the prospect of going back for my second year at university in an engineering field.  The prospect of doing so is bringing me such thoughts of:  How did I get here?  I am a graduate of High School X, who would have dreamed of this moment?
To understand me better you need to understand what this means to me.  It was just over a year ago that I brought my university offer home, I treaded over the remains of my neighbourhood, the eerie silence was all that was left from those drug raids.  That piece of paper - evidence of my exception offer - was enough to bring tears to my Granma’s eyes.  Did you know she wrote to everyone back home to tell them?  Did you know she called my mother? And my aunt? And maybe my uncle?

But uni is nothing like High School X, I am not at the top of the class, I am probably not even in the middle.   I remember my second ever engineering class as if it was today.  I am sitting 5 or 6 rows down from the front where there is that general thinking of how you should never be too close to the professor- you don't want to look to keen!  So I’m there making notes trying to take everything in....but it is not working I am getting lost and stuck, I am sure others are too, I look around.  Do they look confused? Are those frowns I see?  Or are my thoughts projecting onto my interpretation of their faces?
Thirty-five or so minutes later, the finest most supreme student voice is aired onto the class.
'How would you apply that in the nth dimension?'

Was that the moment that I realised I am in a different world? Or did I intuitively know so from the instance i stepped onto the threshold? Is there a reason why I am the only person in my iving memory that has attempted the university road in my entire block?
I made it through the first year through my constant perseverance (with a graceful 2.1), but the prospect of having to work that and more for this year is scaring me.  Time is running out.  But I shall make it.  I hope. 

Wish me luck!

Mcarlosa 
xx

Today is my first day here at blog.co.uk.

Firstly i would like to say hello to fellow bloggers and of course my dear blog-readers which will accompany me through my journey in life. Hello!

Who am I? Well, i have found myself at numerous times completing odd internet questionnaires that are supposedly meant to give me that answer. However, they all have one thing in common they never do. When i was younger and much more impressionable than i am now, i used to find comforting the thought that i could pretty much know my ideal...everything by such methods. How naive was i?

As i have no idea who i am and do not believe that the type of shoes i wear or the way i do my hair (or should i say the way i don't do my hair-since i haven't and probably never will have the sleeky straight hair of every supermodel) define me in any way i will start by who am not.

Okay, i'm no writer (maybe you have figured that out already). I also never used to be much of a thinker, my favourite phrase was 'walk your talk', which i still occasionally find myself saying. But i do have a lot to say and i do find myself misunderstood or rather people find me hard to understand. Maybe it's the accent, or my determination and passion in life. Or maybe something else, who knows?

So this is my first blog.

Please say hello to me.

Mcarlosa
x