I’ve had a few things percolating in my brain this morning and so instead of focusing (as I should if I felt like becoming a better writer) I will just lay them out before you. Perhaps I’ll focus another day.
– Today I was planning to do laundry and wash the clothes I borrowed (without asking) from my friend (who’s very gracious) but was unable to open the ten gallon tub of homemade detergent. (Yes, I know. “You make your own detergent?!” Feel free to think of me as a tree-hugger and a hippy, but really I’m just a cheapskate. I’d recommend this method to anyone who wants to save some money. And maybe also the environment. Rats. Fine, I am a tree-hugger. Moving on.) I found myself saying a prayer of gratitude that I don’t live alone and that when my roommate comes home for lunch I can confess my ineptitude and she will help me with the bucket. My next line of thinking was, I guess I should never live alone. Or I guess I could start buying detergent again. But then I’d miss my roommate. Maybe I’m coming at this from the wrong angle? Then I got distracted by the number of loose guitar picks on top of my dryer and forgot about the whole thing until now.
– There has lately been some discussion of my toughness level. For instance, today I went to the gym at 6:30am in capris and a sweatshirt (it gets very toasty once you’re doing 20 minutes of dead-lifting) and when I got back in my car I noticed that it was 4 degrees fahrenheit. (That’s chilly.) It didn’t bother me. That doesn’t make me tough girl who can grit her teeth and push through the pain, it just means that the cold this morning didn’t bother me. If you want to see that I am actually a wimp, the next time I’m sick come on over and pop in a Disney movie and watch me bawl like a baby. (Something about the combination of cheesy stories and physical discomfort conspire to make me weep from the first glimpse of the Disney castle.) Or come watch me try to do pull-ups. (I can’t. But I can only imagine how highly entertaining it would be to watch me try.) Or look at my sister, watch her do anything for 5 minutes, and you will understand that I am not tough.
– I really enjoy being single but Christmas parties make me want to go rent an escort. Seriously. I can make it through weddings, family reunions, romantic comedies, and Valentines day with hardly a thought to what I might be missing or the need to be in a relationship. But plop me down in a Christmas party, hand me a plate of cookies and put on a Nat King Cole record, and with everyone crowding around me in their sweaters and talking about their shopping lists and their HMA accounts and passing around recommendations for plumbers that don’t show their cracks, I start to sweat. I haven’t identified exactly what it is that causes my reaction (please don’t guess, that could get embarrassing for both of us) but I don’t like it.
– I like snow. I want it to snow more. Please and thank you.