On Fucking Your Inbox, And Saying YES When You “Really Should Be Working.”

“Life is a banquet, and most dumb bastards are starving to death.”

This is the reason I've dedicated my life to having fun.

Pure, uninhibited fun, pleasure, indulgence, thrill.

To wake up when it feels right–or dreamily slink back under my silky white sheets when it doesn't.

To take long, leisurely Monday morning strolls through Santiago's parks, fondly admiring starry-eyed adolescent couples as they lay together in the grass, tickling one another, anxiously awaiting the first kiss, and secretly wondering whether there could ever be a future between them. Maybe. Someday.

To make the declaration never to work before noon, because, after all, why would you?

And instead, to dedicate entire mornings to caring for my body, my well-being, or maybe just that book I've been dying to read. Or write.

To exile myself from my inbox for days on end, shut off my cell phone, and go dancing in my reddest, most glamorous pair of high heels if (and when) the mood strikes.

To buy plane tickets at a moment's notice.

To smile at every single person who crosses my path.

To ask my taxi driver how his day is going.

To actually want to know the answer.

And to take the time to stop and watch the college-aged street performers actually perform…and then clap whole-heartedly before handing them my last ten bucks.

To say yes when I “should be working.”

To say no when I “should be open to opportunity.”

And to not owe anything to anyone.

Ever.

To travel, to love, to lust, to wonder, to play, and to BE.

Play being the key word here.

Play is not frivolous, as I've learned the hard way.

Rather, when I'm taking long, unapologetic hours, days or even weeks to play and really indulge myself, it feels good. And if it feels good, it can't be frivolous. Because feeling good is a fundamental part of truly living.

There's so much more to life than your career. Than work. Than making another buck.

At the end of the road, you will never look back and say, “Shoot, I just wish I had one more day to work some more.” More likely, you'll look back and think, “Shoot, I just wish I had one more day to have a rip-roaring, laugh-out-loud, 3 hour long lunch of mimosas and cheese, while ogling the group of men at the next table, telling the girls about the embarrassing thing that happened that morning, re-applying my lip gloss 4 different times, and most of all, just being with–and appreciating–the people I love most.”

Fortunately, it isn't the end of the road, and we do have another day to live. And it's yours to decide what you want to do with it.

Too often, I think we forget that. I think we forget we have control over how we spend our days. It's one of the most precious advantages we have as citizens of the Western World, so I wonder, why don't enough of us take advantage of it?

On a most basic level, you don't have to do anything you don't want to.

Consequences aside, you can choose if you wish.

Guilt-laden obligations are for the birds.

You don't have to answer your emails every damn day–no one's going to die. Relax.

You don't have to accept meetings if they conflict with your yoga class–taking care of you should always come before taking care of everyone else.

You don't have to take the job that pays better–take the job you want.

And you certainly don't have to live at the beck and call of the entire world.

After all, you're in the driver's seat.

Isn't it time to start the motherfucking engine?

Or maybe it's time to stop it.

You decide.

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Quit your job. Work remotely. Travel the world. Find your f*cking self.

Every weekday morning at 8am Eastern you’ll get 3 ideas to help you make big moves and big money. Written by Penguin Random House author, entrepreneur & digital nomad, Ash Ambirge, who likes to believe she still has standards.

The Middle Finger Project has helped over 500,000+ unconventional subscribers ditch the crock pot & go on an adventure. Established 2009 from Santiago, Chile.

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