A Quote by Megan Rapinoe

It seems like I'm thinking 400 hours a day; that's kind of how it feels. — © Megan Rapinoe
It seems like I'm thinking 400 hours a day; that's kind of how it feels.
I spend a lot of my time thinking about how to spend my time. Probably too much - I probably obsess over it. My friends think I do. But I feel like I kind of have to, because these days, it feels like little bits of my time kind of slip away from me, and when that happens, it feels like parts of my life are slipping away.
I used to work in kitchens, doing 12 or more hours a day of physical labor, so today, eight to 12 hours of cooking, chatting or filming feels like a vacation. When I have a scheduled 'day off,' I spend several hours writing, then I clean until I crash from fatigue. I don't relax well.
I totally love my job, and I wake up every day basically thinking about how can I do my job better. It never feels like a job. It's hard, and it's exhausting sometimes, but it never feels like - I would do this even if they didn't pay me to do it. That's a pretty amazing feeling.
It's just one of those things. When you're a wrestler you're thinking about one guy, yourself, your character and whatever guy it is you're working with. When you're a writer and you're kind of in a booking type role, you're thinking about the entire roster so you're thinking about wrestling 24 hours a day.
I like how my body feels when I'm in shape; I love how it feels after I work out each day. Fitting in the clothes I like to wear comfortably and living a healthy lifestyle is important to me.
Sometimes it feels like there aren't enough hours in a day to get everything done.
Because I am kind of distracted, I don't tend to sit at my desk 9 to 5. It can be two hours a day, or, when I'm in the final editing stages, it can be 14 hours a day.
Very few interviews are a conversation. It's usually a question and I have to answer for two minutes. By the end of the day, I kind of feel gross. It's like you go to dinner with a friend and then you get home and you're like: "Ugh, I dominated that conversation too much. I wish I let them talk more." That's how it feels for me every day I do press.
It seems like we are moving towards something, some kind of point and it is probably going to be an important point in our development or dissolution. That is what everybody seems to be thinking.
24 hours a day, I'm thinking about what we can do with this artist, what I can do myself over here, and how we can tie it all together.
Children smile 400 times a day on average ... adults 15 times. Children laugh 150 times a day ... adults 6 times per day. Children play between 4-6 hours a day ... adults only 20 minutes a day. What's happened?
I wasn't obsessed by magic. People say, 'How you can you claim you practiced eight hours a day and weren't obsessed?' Well, people go to a job they don't even like for eight hours a day; it's not obsessive if it's something you like.
Dancing is still, for me, one of those things that no matter when I do it and it sounds corny and cliche, but time stands still. I could literally dance for hours and hours on end and not realize that I've been dancing for hours and hours on end. In the right setting, I could literally dance all day and have a blast. It seems like one moment to me. There's nothing else going on, and it's the ultimate release.
I was thinking about time, how on a movie set the shot is maintained in the same time no matter how many takes and hours pass. Reflectors and lights are added, footprints are smoothed away, so that there are no telltale clues as the day wears on. When the shot is finished and the plugs are pulled, time seems to leap forward in a matter of seconds. Perhaps making movies is a step toward being able to move backward and forward and in and out of linear time.
I had brief glimpses of emotional catharsis while writing. I remember reading something Philip Roth wrote about how he writes every single day, but it's almost as if he has amnesia every morning - he has almost zero confidence that anything will come but he just sits down and plugs away. And at the end of the day it feels like a miracle: "How did I do that?" I had a similar experience where it was just about putting in the hours and being present.
The man who feels like he's a woman trapped in a man's body, when he goes into the ladies room, it's the other women whose privacy it seems to me as being violated by having this man walk in... regardless of how he feels.
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