Wednesday, July 1, 2015

This Is Not A Dress Rehearsal

I  keep waiting and waiting and waiting to write my first post on this THIRD iteration of Runaway Shopgirl. Waiting to find someone to help me with template design and jazz things up a bit, waiting to think of a significant topic for my first post that would set the tone, waiting for it to occur to me what I want that tone to even be. I have seven draft posts started and left to rot in my queue. The oldest is from over a year ago. It was about Mayor Menino. It was pretty good. But none of them have been right. So I've just left it blank.

I realized today that I approach a lot of things this way. I wait until things are just slightly better than their present state to actually do anything. And a lot of the time that leaves me very stunted.

I'm not going to take that yoga class I really like because my yoga pants are old and I won't feel fantastic enough. My feet also look terrible and if any of those perfect yoga swans so much as glances down at them I'll disintegrate into shame tears. Staying home.

I'm not buying a food processor even though I need one to make half the things I like to eat because I live alone and I'm not married. Only married people who have registered to receive a food processor as a gift should have one. (Really, Ann?)

I'm not going to actually decorate my apartment or hang anything on the walls because this just isn't ideal. I don't REALLY live here. I'll just store my belongings here with no semblance of order until my real, beautiful, perfect apartment falls into my lap. THEN I'll actually settle in and make it a home.

My grandmother had this big yellow button in her kitchen for a little while when I was a kid that said, "Enjoy your life. This is not a dress rehearsal." That button was not wrong. This is it. This is my life. This is my apartment. This is my marital status. These are my yoga pants. Those are my feet. And this is my first blog post on my third try at having a blog.

2 comments:

  1. Love this, so glad you're writing again! Short, sweet, and to the point - just like you.

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  2. I too am waiting for the universe to tell me I'm worthy of a food processor...

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