Oh the continuing saga of my battle for peace and conformity…
I didn’t sit down and adjust my life plan last night and I can’t even tell you why.
I had the best of intentions, I really did.
But somewhere between folding the laundry on my bed, to make space for a comfy work surface, and passing out with with a dog two cats and my phone in my hand, I had forgotten entirely about the plan to mature, to better myself, to become reasonable.
One moment I was looking for pens and notepads, to script my adult life onto and the next, I was reclined on a mountain of pillows and pet hair, drinking wine and staring out at the snow for what felt like hours, without a scrap of stationary in sight.
Visions of elaborate stage productions, CD (do they even have those anymore?) release parties, book signings and award galas danced in my head…
We’re still calling this manifesting right?
A visualization exercise, if you will, but the action must come together without further delay.
Seriously. I’m starting to legitimately doubt my own sanity and question whether I might actually be more developmentally challenged than I thought I was.
It’s clearly and unarguably become an urgent matter.
It must be taken care of immediately.
Like now. only not actually now because I’m writing this now and then I’m going to eat lunch.
But after lunch. Well after lunch I have some other shit to take care of but later… like maybe tonight.
But not actually tonight.
I have belly dancing class tonight.
And I don’t think I need to explain to any of you why decorating ones self in jingly coins and sparkly things and haphazardly undulating about a studio at the YMCA, with a bunch of like-minded out-of-shape mid-life-crisis victims holds massive priority over getting my shit together.
Do I?
Because if I do (and I won’t)
1. We can never be friends.
and
2. You’re clearly reading the wrong the blog.
“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”
― Marilyn Monroe
