I’m having a bit of a blog mid-year crisis. I’m feeling that May just isn’t my month. I am bored. And not because I don’t have anything to do. I’m up to my eye balls in to-dos. But who wants to hear about that? The pile of laundry I need to wash? How we’re out of waffles and I’ve been forced to eat cereal for breakfast EVERY morning? I’m out of stories, I’m dull, everything I have to talk about is wedding related and unfortunately this is not a wedding blog. Eventually this wedding will be over and I’ll have work to maintain readers with wit, charm, and awkwardness alone.
I could tell you how I woke up this morning with perfect hair. How often does that happen? Like never. But I have to work out, so I can’t even take my perfect hair out in public. I’ll have to wash it and risk a blow dry. A blow dry that could go one way or another, who’s to tell?
I could tell you about the Verbena Sachets we picked up at the mall this week that are changing my life. My happiness factor sky rockets every time I walk into the apartment and smell lemons. “I smell LEMONS!” I say in an Oprah voice. “Kamel, I smell lemons!” I call to him from the bathroom. I want to buy a few more and pack my house with happiness so that every day it smells like a spa.
I could tell you about how I walked into work yesterday, shaking I was so angry. Physically shaking. But blogging is a lesson in restraint, and even though my mother thinks I share everything with the world, I know I really don’t. The hardest part about a public audience is knowing what to say and when, and knowing when you can never, ever tell a story. (Something that is incredibly difficult for me. A story? Not being told? Blasphem!) But there it stands.
I could tell you about the text I got from Maris last night. The one that told me she had just realized she had been wearing her underpants on inside out the whole day. The underpants with rhinestones on them so that now she has little marks on her. And then, how when I was getting changed this morning, I realized that … yup … I, too, had worn my underpants inside out for the entire day and the entire night. Winners, the two of us.
I have massive amounts of wanderlust. I crave adventure! Of running through an airport, carrying my shoes, so that I could catch a flight. Of jet lag and wandering around new cities with a map, of stopping in at new cafes and restaurants out of curiosity, not regularity. Oh new neighborhoods and freshly painted walls. Of road trips and uhauls and sleeping on a pillow jammed against the window in the front seat. Of playlists named by the states we will drive through, of diners, and cheap hotels.
Kamel is in the shower right now, whistling the song from the King’s Speech. There is something about hearing people sing in the shower that gets me right in the gut. Especially the epicness of that tune, matched with lather. It’s so incredibly endearing. It has a certain amount of intimacy, I feel honored to be included in. I used to listen to my mom sing in the shower, off key, while we were all getting ready for our day. Very sweet.
I could tell you all of these non-wedding related things, these boring life things, the list of all the things running through my brain. I could go on and on. But would you listen? Would it matter? My job is to take normalcy and spin a tale around it. Take a normal day of work, and dinner, and chatter and find the story, find the interest, find the funny and then share it with you. That’s my job. But then sometimes, my life is just not awesome, or not that shareable. It’s boring even me.