Well. It’s happening again. The whole 3 am thing. Yeah, I thought I shaked that awhile back, but nope. It snuck on in again. Sneaky little devil. Last time it happened I was obsessed with trying to figure out the meaning behind it, and I put it together, in cosmic-hippie fashion, that I was simply going through a creative phase and was just supposed to let it happen…and I did. And then I guess I became super boring and incredibly un-creative because I started sleeping late again (til 5). But now that it’s happening again I’m less concerned with the meaning (I get it, I get it, I’m creative. Enough already.) I’m more concerned with…oh, I don’t know…why it’s happening.
I have a long history of not being able to sleep well when I have a lot on my mind or am excited about something. Positive or negative, if there’s a lot going on upstairs, I can’t sleep like a normal human being. So… I’m just trying to think of the things that have been on my mind lately…
Could be that my daughter’s in preschool for the first time…
Could be that I’m finally left with a little time to make more cooking videos…
Could be that over the weekend I conquered a fear of mine- singing and playing for a small crowd (and then FILM it. Yikes!)- and I got to do it with my long time girlfriend…something we haven’t done since we lived together over 14 years ago…
Could be that I finally got my glasses and have been quite responsible with wearing them when I’m supposed to…
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| (See? Good morning, America! Here’s me right at this very moment. And I didn’t even make myself look all purty for ya’ll. Nope. This is raw and real 3 am business here. And that ‘shirt’ I’m wearing? Oh that would be my father’s old t-shirt. If you grew up with me…you know the one. It’s been loved hard, that shirt. I think it’s on backwards right now.) |
Could be that I just realized that I’ve been drinking my coffee with slightly old half & half and have been slowly poisoning myself over time and waking up at 3 is the manifestation of my slow dairy-induced death…
OR…could be that it’s officially my birthday week. (Woo-hoo!) On Saturday I’ll be turning 33 and am actually excited about it this year. Allow me to explain. My birthdays are always a little strange for me…I blame elementary school. And junior high. And high school. You know the girls who got to walk around all day with a big bunch of balloons on their birthday? They walked into class and their desk was covered in flowers and cards, and their lockers were done up all fancy and stuff? The whole school knew it was their birthday. Yeah…that wasn’t me. That was never me. (Enter sad, pitiful face here.) Man, I wanted to be one of those girls. Ha. So I think what my 8, 13, 18 year old selves wanted so desperately is still kinda what my 33 year old self wants. Isn’t that silly? But we never quite shake our old insecurities do we? We only learn how to deal with them as we get older and wiser. Plus, don’t we all feel a little bit like a child on our birthdays anyway? It makes us reflect on our past. And in my case, I tend to revert back to that shy, little girl who never ever told anyone that’s what she wanted for her birthday- to feel kinda like a princess and for the whole school to know it was her special day…if just for a moment.
So I get kinda bummed around my birthday every single year because of that shy, little girl and what she never got. Pretty ridiculous, I know. It barely makes sense as I type it, but that’s the honest truth. I have so much to be thankful for and yet that is something that, every year, creeps into my mind. See- what I shoulda just done back then is just do all of that for myself. Send myself flowers and buy myself balloons and make everyone else think I had a secret admirer somewhere. (Right. That wouldn’t have been sad at all…) I am a super good birthday giver, though. I rock at people’s birthdays. I should go into official birthday giving business. I’m a shower-er. I love all that stuff. But for some reason I have such a problem with voicing what it is that I want. And then end up being disappointed that I never got it…
But this year I told myself I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to go into this birthday feeling like a 13 year old. I’m not sad and pitiful anymore! I’m turning 33, damnit! I’m a grown-ass woman. If I want something, I can’t sit back and wait for someone else to bring it to me. What sense does that make? People can’t read my mind. (Lord knows that would be near impossible and take for damn-ever to do.) So every day this week I am treating myself to something that I want. Every day I’m creating my own something to look forward to. Because we create our own happiness. No one else is responsible for our feelings and emotions. No one else can create our happiness. It took me 33 years to figure this out and I’m happier now because of it. So I am telling you now, if you don’t know this, if you don’t already do this, do it now. Start this year. Stop being disappointed in people, stop allowing yourself to be let down. If you want something, grab it. (I mean, don’t be rude. Don’t just, like, take people’s stuff.) But truly- if there’s something in this world that you desire, something that you’ve always wanted but were always to shy and insecure to ask for, something you perhaps have been waiting on someone else to do for you, just make it happen. Just. Do. It. And that’s what I’m doing this year. I’m doing what makes me happy. Finally.
So if you see me walking around town holding an unreasonably large bunch of balloons any time from now until the 20th, just go along with it and pretend that I didn’t buy them for myself. K?
Thanks.
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