Don’t Worry, This Isn’t 800 Words About My Hair or Something

It has taken me 7+ years of blogging to recognize that one of the causes of writer’s* block – for me – is having lots of little mini-posts created in the shower or during my commute home just sort of…sitting in my brain.  So while I think my bulleted lists are sort of a cop out, they also seem to serve a larger purpose of clearing the way for something more entertaining (hopefully) so let’s give this a whirl, shall we?  (GOD, CHRISTEN STOP WRITING ABOUT WRITING AND JUST WRITE ALREADY.)

  • Like everyone else in your mom’s book club, I recently finished The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and I have to say that unlike a lot of organizational books, it’s a pretty easy and practical way to approach paring down your belongings.  Instead of demanding you toss anything you haven’t touched in a certain arbitrary time period, she asks that you simply assess whether the item in question “sparks joy.”  If yes, it stays.  If not, it goes.  No shaming around the quality or price or obligation surrounding the item.  I do think part of the success is due to the fact that I’m constantly shrieking, “DOES THIS SPARK JOY?” at Ed, who is bound to grow tired of these shenanigans soon, leave me, and take all of his stuff with him.  Hey look!  Now my place is half-empty.  MAGIC, INDEED!  #KonMari
  • My mom is on assignment in Omaha, Nebraska for the next six-ish months and as someone who hates humidity, being cold, and steak she’s not doing too hot right now.  Her company will pay to fly me out to see her so we’re looking at dates for me to hang out and hopefully I can help ease some of her homesickness.  If anyone out there has any ideas of fun stuff to do in Omaha (more like OmaHA! amirite?) please tell me because so far our plans include watching movies and wandering around her local Target.
  • Over the weekend we were driving through our neighborhood and Ed spotted a guy trying to get in front of us in traffic.  “Don’t you dare pull out,” he said.  Me, without skipping a beat: “That’s not what your mom said last night.”  He remained silent and continued driving.  I think this exchange sums up our marriage perfectly.
  • I’m wearing white pants today and ate lunch that included a red sauce without spilling on myself and seriously I might actually be invincible.
  • Despite all evidence to the contrary in terms of my actual behavior, I am apparently at an age where anyone younger than I am assumes that I know what I’m doing and asks my advice.  Sometimes this is career-related but usually it’s of a more personal nature.  This has got to be highly amusing to anyone who knew me from 1992 until, oh, today because I’m hardly the poster child for some sort of “If you do ABC then you’re guaranteed success” type of formula.  But maybe that’s the genius here: if I came out the other side happy, healthy, and relatively unscathed despite the stupid decisions I made, you can too?  Maybe I’ll write a book about this: Dare to Wear White Pants While Eating Red Foods. Best-seller list, here I come!

OK, I feel better now.  I’m sure you do, too.

*I am by no means putting myself in the category of a “writer” but “blogger’s block” sounds dumb.

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2 thoughts on “Don’t Worry, This Isn’t 800 Words About My Hair or Something

  1. You’re killing me! Ed has obviously developed an immunity. (Probably had to in self defense.) And kudos on the white pants/no sauce event. I just assume any white shirt I have is going to last through one meal. I find myself wearing lots of red as a result.

    Funny stuff — as always!

    • I tell him to just lean in and let the crazy wash over him. Don’t think about it. Just go limp and accept this is your life.

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