I got a tattoo exactly one month ago. It was terrible.
I wanted to get it in April, but then there was a global pandemic or something. I was still in Peoria (Central IL) when tattoo parlors reopened.
Feeling impatient, I found a local shop and scheduled a consultation. The estimate was $80. It was going to be double that if I had it done in Chicago.
So I got my tattoo at the shop in Peoria. I figured saving $80 could get me a healthy amount of Woodford Reserve.
As you can see, the tattoo sucked. It looked okay at first, but it was fading by day 2. I also began to notice how shitty it looked overall.
By day 10, it looked like a temporary tattoo you get at a fair, fading more aggressively.
I got it fixed last week for $120. After getting it touched up, I paid $200 in total—not including tips.
Before I keep going, can we just appreciate how good that mask looks on me? So fetch.
If I would’ve waited to get my tattoo until I got to Chicago, it would’ve been $160.
Luckily the tattoo artist in Chicago did a great job fixing my terrible tattoo.
Two things you can learn from a 24-year-old gym bro who loves tattoos:
- Being impatient will cost you.
- Don’t buy cheap. It always ends up being more expensive.
This applies to nearly everything.
“Memento Mori” is a Latin phrase, which loosely translates to “remember, you’re going to die.”
Meditating on death has been a part of my daily routine for the better part of the last year. Along with my faith, this practice keeps me grounded.
After celebrating milestones and achievements, it’s important to remember that I’m still a human being. Because those are the times when it’s easy to get complacent.
It’s easy to lose your sense of urgency, to forget you don’t have all the time in the world. The idea of death—and that life is short—is only depressing when you think about it wrong.
When you think about death, it should give you a sense of priority.
A sense of meaning.
A sense of purpose.
I got this tattoo on my wrist as a reminder.
A reminder of what’s important and what I was put on earth to do.
A reminder to live each moment like it may be my last—because it might.
A reminder that fearing death is a sign that I’m not living the life I was made to live.