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January 21, 2011 / Danielle

Day 7

Okay friends . . .

This is an honest blog, so.

(Oh, no, don’t worry, I didn’t cheat! Although I did, funnily enough, end up at Nordstrom’s last night, wandering around thinking “hmm, I can’t afford any of these anyway, fortunately”.)

But I think I’m starting to feel a little deprived here.

I am basing this on several things;

1. The slight-to-large uptick in the amount of carbohydrates, chocolate, cake and beer I have been consuming*

2. the heightened agitation I’m experiencing with both UPS and USPS with regards to my final-purchase packages (which are both having difficulty arriving**)

3. My total and utter meltdown when I realized I was really too broke to order tickets to this amazing theatre event until my Monday payday.

I’ve been aware that I use shopping as an analgesic, a security blanket, or as a distraction,  and I realize when I considered this project that I’d need some sort of replacement. (hurrah, I’m blogging!) And It’s not that I’m craving any specific item . . . . it’s that I feel less patient, more annoyed, shorter-tempered, and just plain fidgety. (Yes, damn it, I will have an order of french fries, I don’t care that my pants barely fit.)

(Umm, guys, it might also be . . . a hormonal time for me. You understand.)

(And obviously I care greatly. Because if they don’t fit . . . well, it’s going to be an extremely limited rotation of skirts here, is what I’m saying. Also, perhaps a sarong.)

I still love my closet, I still love my clothes, I’m still happy and excited to get dressed in it. But I’m definitely experiencing some need to fill this gap. (And genuinely, gotta get a grip here, because what a disaster would it be if nothing fits.)(Again, sarong.)

I’ve got some plans. I do, somewhere, have a rusty, dusty gym card; also, I get paid soon and grocery shopping is high on the list. (I miss vegetables.) And I have several important engagements to be preparing for, and I do love words, so that’ll be hunky-dory and spectacular.

But in my life in theatre (remind me to tell you about THAT game, sometime), I have found a most useful phrase, and it is this; sometimes, after disappointments, you know you have to dust yourself off, get back on the horse, and give the bat another swing. (I mix my metaphors like a fine margarita.) (or preferably, with a fine margarita.) You’re aware your being down is temporary, your struggle finite and tiny in the span of time, and that this is just the nature of the beast – and within a couple more shots you’ll have another chance to care about.

With all that competence and confidence in mind, you’re still allowed the wallowing pit.

Now, the pit can only last for a few days (it must be, by nature, temporary), and it can’t assume a greater cause than the frustration that bore it (you can’t write it off as a greater sign of ennui or a massive fault in your character.) But, simply put, the wallowing pit allows you to say “Screw it all, I’m annoyed, disappointed and pissed off, and I don’t want to behave like an adult about it” – and in my case, retreat to your bed with TV on DVD and something fried in peanut oil and coated in salt.

(Mmm, salty.)

So I think, rather than freaking out about my heightened frustration, I’mmagoahead and embrace it. Time for early PJs, a giant bag of Funyums and Arrested Development. Monday’s another day. (For fruit, fibers, and the elliptical.)

And when I woke up today, and found it was exactly 0 degrees outside – having dropped to minus one by the time I left my house – I felt very strongly that today was a day for all knits;

anthro sweater dress and headband, hue tights, VS shirt, hunters w/socks

Don’t worry, I’ll be back again with a refinished attitude – the wallowing pit, when thoroughly indulged, always ends up kicking you in the butt and saying “come on, go get something done”. It’s one of the beauties of the system.

*To be fair, cake and beer are both weekend leftovers .  . .. but still.

**how does anyone in a major city GET a package these days? Does UPS actually expect us to stay home all day just because we have something coming? Or to prop open all the doors to our apartment so they can get in, or alternately, to leave our precious whatevers on a busy thoroughfare until we finally make it home hoping they’re still there? How have we not improved on this system so far?


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