Simply put, slackerology is a contract I created with myself to write.

This is probably the 482nd iteration of slackerology since its inception as a website I created back in high school. And while I’ve ignored it for vast periods of time, and uprooted its home from a completely self-coded HTML website to various blog platforms, it’s always been about writing.

the backstory 

So how did this resurgence of slackerology begin?

My unintentionally inspiring fiancé.

He posted a cryptic Facebook update, something deep and sciencey – one of the only areas we struggle to connect.

Like, when your dear, darling love spends all night sighing at some article and then looks at you with tear-stained eyes and (genuinely) says, “It makes me sad that I will never know what it’s like to ride on a comet.” You should not reply with, “You need to leave me the fuck alone, I am trying to watch Armageddon.”

I tried to translate the post from Portuguese later on, but for reasons that are probably unique to this particular point in history, Facebook translated the word antagônico (antagonistic) to Teabagger, so I tagged myself out. He sent me a proper translation later.

“I don’t understand this at all,” I replied, after reading it eight times. “You’re too deep and abstract for me.”

(My fiancé should dump me.)

“Camila cried,” he said.

“Yes, of course my love, because it’s long and intense,” I said, following up with the nail painting emoji.

There was a section in it where he mentioned that his friends, in several separate instances, had given him some advice. (Obviously: “Get rid of your fiancé.”)

“What was the advice?” I asked, partially because I wanted to engage with him on this topic he felt so strongly about. But also because I wanted to make sure his friends weren’t telling him to cut me loose.

“That I should dedicate more time to creativity.”

“I would agree with that,” I said. “For you and for me.”

Then somewhere in that conversation the edict was uttered, “Less consuming; more creating.” I can’t even remember which one of us said it, but sparks went off in my brain. Like, the “pay fucking attention to this” kind of sparks. But then the doorbell buzzes and your sushi arrives and you turn on Poldark and you forget about it.


Cue Kate, my favorite ginger project manager, who is ambitious and organized and absolutely the exact opposite of me, and how are we friends anyway? Her impeccably timed text:

“After 11 years of writing 10,000 words at a time and giving up and starting again I finally, like, figured out the story I’m trying to tell. And it has a plot line. It has action. It has a kickass end. All I have to do is fill in the lines. CAN we start some digital writing group thing? Now that NANOWRIMO is over I have little motivation. I started this WordPress site. I write every day about progress. Struggle. Prompts. Excerpts. Join meeeeeee. We’ll hold each other accountable. Send challenges to each other. Post results on the blog thing.”

So here we are, then.

The Universe and Fate got together over some peppermint tea and discussed my oppressive laziness. There was brainstorming, some heavy sighing.

“Have the fiancé annoy him,” said the Universe. “Make him translate an update that will short-circuit his brain.”

“Yes! YES!” cried Fate. “And then the ginger… She’ll come up with a perfectly timed proposal that cannot be refused!”

So, now that I’ve positioned these two scoundrels in the mix—The Universe and Fate—accountability is no longer an option. These two have blessed my life in an infinite number of ways and it’s time to pay the piper.

Which brings us to…

the contract 

  1. Consume Less // Create More. Less scrolling, less screens, less consuming information and more creating. Put things out in the universe. Pictures, stories, letters, conversation.
  2. Write a little something every day. Capture small little frames of moments and record them. It could be something funny, something enchanting, some dialogue spoken, or simply something I want to squirrel away to remember later. Not everything makes it up here, I’ve gotta set aside time and write even just a sentence.
  3. Creative Accountability. Since Kate seized on my one single moment of weakness in the past year. I am going to participate in the challenge and update on the progress of this simple little contract. So far it’s been a spectacular way to stay engaged. We’ll see what comes of it.

So there it is.
Creativity, collaboration, connection, and gratitude.