When breaking up with your stylist…

See this? This was taken today before I went out to the grocery store. Okay, so it isn’t. Not far off…but you get the picture. I haven’t been to my hair stylist since December. Remember December? Christmas, halls decked, before the New Year? Yeah. My bangs have taken the shape of unruly weeds sprouting from my head. I have taken scissors to them, but alas they cover my bottom lip. Again. So back to ‘when breaking up with your stylist…make sure you have another option in the wings. I have none. It’s like I don’t trust anyone else, but I can’t go back to robbing banks before seeing her for my nine week trim. Her price had gotten out of hand, sadly. Like way out of hand. It was either feed the family this Wednesday thru Friday, or get a hair cut. So style has suffered. Whoa is me.

You know how on the show ‘Cheers’, when Norm would come into the bar, everyone would yell, ‘Norm’? Well that appears to be me at the Prime Care Clinic. “Why yes it is me, again. What? You can rattle off my date of birth before I tell you?” Uh, huh…that’s how it’s been this fine winter, melting into spring. Now it appears I have bronchitis. I’m a bit peeved about it, too. I am a HUGE advocate of taking mountains of vitamins, drinking plenty of liquids, getting rest, washing hands, wearing surgical gear to open public doors…you name it. Yet…yet!!! I have had the flu, the strep throat not once, but twice, and now bronchitis. All in the span of 2 months. Lesson learned? Eat the brownies for breakfast, drink that bottle of wine for lunch, and buy that monkey picture that no one will understand, but you love it more than Monet’s, Walk in the Garden. Or whatever Monet painted that everyone knows. For those catching up, I did not buy the monkey holding the camera picture. I was on this kick of saving money, watching my wants and needs and deciphering them best I knew how. Well, little did that help. I waltzed back into the store after only 4 days of willpower and it was gone. Who in the world wanted that ugly picture more than me? *as I beat my head with my fist*

So just do whatever, sickness will find you no matter what fortress of vegetarian slug you’re living under, hoping to cheat death by days or years. Enjoy life! Period.     I will try just as soon as this right lung of mine wants to begin cooperating again and stop being intimidated by all the sludge moving through it.

Well, everyone enjoy this weekend. After the teacher told me upon pick-up of my kids today, to make sure and not bring them next week for spring break, I decided I have to find alternative plans for them. May the good times begin…and may Monday not find them in my office as I begin the work week. 🙂



Squandering1I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who is guilty of this. Nothing was more evident than the last day of our vacation, of how we squandered our time there all week. Sure, we did a little of this and a little of that. But, mostly we wasted a lot of our time trying to figure out and all vote on what to do. I’ve got that age gap of children where the fifteen year old wanted to stay inside on a device and the seven year old wanted to go the pool. My twelve year old daughter would jump from “I’m bored, let’s go do something”, to going to the beach and thirty minutes later saying, “Why can’t we just go home? Is this what we’re going to be doing every day?”

So, on the last day of our precious time in Seabrook, we woke up early, got breakfast out of the way, took a bicycle ride around the pond, spent four hours on the beach, enjoyed a picnic, walked around and shopped at the little town, watched a concert, and rode to the pool to find it was closed due to rain. Why did it take until Friday to realize our time was running out and we needed to enjoy every minute of it? Isn’t that life?

Every time my mother would gift me a pricey candle, I’d smile, inhale the fragrance until I was woozy, then stick it in my darkened closet to forget about. When she’d buy me expensive body cream, I’d take the tip of my finger and wipe the little paper under the lid and dab my wrists…once a month. (Come to think of it, my mother is the only one who indulges me with the nice stuff:)!

Why do I feel bad for burning the extravagant candles and using the expensive sheets on my bed? It isn’t as though they’re getting better with age, or I’m taking them back for a refund. Why do I save it? For what? It’s a big problem of mine. I notice it’s the little things, too. If I like a certain food, I wait and eat it last. Sometimes I’m too full to enjoy it when it’s time to eat it.

I’ve done it with opportunities, as well. I suppose we all think we’re immortal. That’s how we get through the day, I suppose. If you think about how temporary everything is, we’d question why we go through the hard work. Nevertheless, I’ve held back in the past, thinking there was time, thinking I’d have the chance at a later date. Guess what? Time passes and so does chances. They’re like rainbows. If you wait too long after the rain’s stopped to go outside and see it,  the rainbow fades.

Seize the moment, eat the food while it’s still hot and you’re hungry, sleep on the five hundred count sheets while wearing your most expensive body cream. And, light that candle while it still has that irresistible aroma. Time moves quickly and waits for no one. I only wish we’d had spent every day of our vacation like the last one. Literally.