I realized today on the way to work that it was the last time I'd ever be making that drive, and I got sad for a minute because that is my default position when thinking about a LAST [SOMETHING] EVER, but then I reminded myself that my new commute will be, like, ten minutes and cheered right the fuck up.
I keep joking that Joe and I have switched roles, because he has been the one more likely to slip into THERE'S NO TIME THERE'S NEVER ANY TIME mode, while I'm all breezy and "oh, don't worry, it'll get done, it'll be fine." WHO AM I? This is completely unlike me. I half-assed a few To Do lists, but mostly I've just been flying by the seat of my pants. Which is a weird expression, no? How would one fly by the seat of their pants? Do you have to take off your pants and tie them around your neck like a cape? Is that the secret of human flight? IS THAT IT?! I've been trying to fly since I was but a wee thing, all hopped up on Mary Poppins and happy thoughts, and it turns out I could have been flying around by the seat of my pants ALL THIS TIME?
OK, so maybe I'm not completely breezy but I am obviously not getting riled up about IMPORTANT things. We did so much this past weekend, moved furniture and boxes and bought new furniture and painted and the whole time, I was all, "SHRUG, it'll all get done, I'm sure." AND YOU GUYS. It DID all get done. Has all my past worrying (all that list-making!) been for naught? I feel like my world makes no sense anymore.
We've been packing all week, in between episodes of The League (shit is funny, you guys, WATCH IT), and we still have quite a bit of work ahead of us but OH WELL because tonight we have tickets to see David Sedaris. So. That's happening. We really have no choice. The tickets are non-refundable and I bought them long, long ago, before we even found a house we wanted to buy, so go we must, young Skywalker. It's OK because I'm not working tomorrow and, although I'll have to take a couple of hours to sit at the new house and wait on some furniture to arrive, I'm confident that everything we still need to do will get done. Because it has to. And if I have to invent a time machine to do it, then so be it. I SAID SO BE IT.
You've discovered one of the secrets to care-free living: Don't worry about junk all the time, as if that'll make any difference.
ReplyDeleteOne of the other secrets is to cheer right the fuck up as often as possible.
Seriously, I didn't worry at all and THINGS STILL GOT DONE. It was glorious.
ReplyDeleteThe movers were late, but I wasn't worried about it, I just had, you know, blinding rage.
Jennie - I hope you gave those movers a hefty piece of your mind. In my experience, there two kinds of professional movers: really great careful helpful respectful ones, or lazy disrespectful useless jerks. No middle ground.
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