While working on a chapter outline of the Four-Fuckity-Zero book, I had an epiphany. A break through of sorts and a sudden change from WTF to winning! That birthday is two months away…a mere 58 days and counting. Every. Single. Day. I had previously wanted to run away from it and hide. But since I don’t run, like ever, unless there is a weapon pointed at me- I desperately needed to figure out a way to fight the 40. To not be sucked into the holy shit- my youth is passed-my boobies have lost their sense of direction-will my stomach ever be flat again-oh yippee a mammogram-wonky period- hysteria that hits chicks about 6 months into their 39th year. Like we didn’t see it coming. The grim reaper driving a speeding truck poised to swerve out of it’s lanes on midnight of the last day of year thirty-nine and demolish all things left of us before then. Forget planning for Armageddon, I would simply like to survive this birthday thank you very much. The pending end of the world is a pedicure compared to what I am feeling. Was feeling. Ok sort of still feel but it’s fading. I still have the nagging general depression and panic that my life is about to take a dreaded turn but I also figured out I get to have something soon that I have never had before. Ever. My own room.
It’s my blank slate. My do over button. How is an empty room such an epic- and I sincerely mean epic- big deal to me? I get my own space to be me in. To write in. To read in. A safe, soft and feminine place to chat with girl friends and share secrets with The Girl when she comes to visit. That is exactly how I thought of 40 last night. I am claiming it as my empty room to fill with what I want: all things pink, black and shiny. And a chandelier. I am so accustomed to sharing my space with other people and their stuff. Their books, clothes, fears, baggage, thoughts, judgements and so on- that I forget about all of my stuff. I literally forget to take care of me and to love up my own dreams. I have been focused on what other people think about me, say to me and want for me- further cluttering up my space and not leaving even a corner for my box of fragile this and thats.
I am going to fill my book shelves with a healthy disregard for what other people think of me and make sure I leave a note on my desk to remind myself to always boldly define myself on my terms. The only judgements that will be stuffed into my files are mine and you can assure they will be kind most days and sharply honest when they need to be. My dreams, goals and wants will fill my tack boards to greet me every morning and remind me to dream big every night. My mistakes, regrets and errors I never want to visit again will be neatly folded and put in the bottom of a drawer; always there for reference material but visible only when I want them to be. And that chandelier I want so badly? It’s to glorify my new place in life and reflect all of the sparkle and shine I feel. To represent every thing I am grateful and lucky to have in my life now and in the past. To shine beautiful light on my new freedom to submerge myself in the luxury of my writing dreams. I finally see me with crystal clarity.
Weigh In Wednesday. I hate you so.
|Weigh In Wednesday 6.8.11: The Ugly Truth