Yup. Scattered. That’d be the word for describing my brain activity yesterday, and so far (at 9:15am) the word of today, as well. Why? No seriously, whyyyyy ?? I’ve been trying to pin point the reason since yesterday morning, when I found myself all over the place- physically and mentally- from the moment I woke up.
I had ‘big’ plans for my day: Revamp my blog, write a post, do some cleaning, hit the grocery store, make lots of healthy lovely food, work in the ‘workshop’ for a bit, then get ready to head out to a house warming party in the evening….. perfect day for Someone Like Me.
However, if you’re Someone Like Me, you have, and I mean have to write out your day plan in order (with approximate allowed time frames for each plan), which I didn’t do. Which you especially need to do when you’re feeling scattered. Which, I was. So, basically? My day went to shit. Nothing turned out right, nothing got finished, everything pissed me off to the point of wanting to throat punch anyone who talked to me. Thankfully, I was mostly by myself, save my husband who wisely stayed pretty far away. He’s actually the only one who’s able to talk me off the crazy ledge, but he also knows how to pick the right time. Honestly? I don’t know how he doesn’t throat punch me when I get like this.
So, considering that I’ve, up until this weekend, been a rock star with regards to keeping myself ‘on task’ and productive- as in finishing things I start and not getting crazy overwhelmed- I feel compelled to try and figure out what the hell put me so off track.
Now might be a good time to mention that this past Friday marked my 43rd birthday. Ahhhh haaa, you say. Well, duh, that’s got to be it, right? (Dramatic sigh) I dunno, maybe? I’m literally trying to figure this out, right now, as I type. It’s how I write each post, by the way- flying by the seat of my pants, and by the end, thinking, “Oh! So that’s where I was going with this!”
Anyhow… 43. It’s kind of a ‘whatever’ kind of birthday, right? Really- all of the in between the ‘milestone’ birthdays are that way, I think. Not to say they don’t matter- each one marks another year here on earth with all the people we love, that we survived everything that came our way for yet another twelve months, blah blah blah. But, since every year, without fail, someone always asks: “Sooo, how does it feel to be ___” Doesn’t matter what the age is, the same question always gets asked. This time, I’ll give more than the perfunctory “Oh, you knowww, the same as ___ did!”
This year, I’ll give a real answer: I’m honestly loving my 40’s so far, it’s been great. Not a single repeat-worthy complaint. I mean, for me- turning 30 was a bitch, the years in between 30- 35 were bumpy, 35- 40, lots of awesomeness, and now 40-43, freaking stellar. So, I’m just not quite ready to lay blame on my scattered-ness on this marking of another year passed.
But- since I’ve brought the subject up- My 40’s- I do have some self observations that I’m curious if any of my fellow friends in or past their 40’s can relate to. For instance, I’ve been finding myself frequently noticing ( read: eye stalking) women in my ( known or assumed) age bracket. How they look, how they dress, how they act- and how I measure against them. That sounds catty, but I don’t mean it in a bitchy way. I mean it in an, “Am I doing it right?” kind of way. Because, seriously- I really am unsure of what I’m supposed to feel, look, and act like. Generally? I feel like a kid playing grown up. I think I act that way, too, and I’ll bet there’s some people who’d agree with me. Ahem. Moving on. Looks? I’m holding out pretty well, I think. I mean, I see the laugh lines, the crows feet when I smile, the crease in my forehead when I frown…. oh, and the deep lines in my chest when I wake up in the morning if I’d been sleeping on my side, (those actually freak me out a little), but I also know that I take very good care of myself, mentally and physically, and I generally feel pretty damn good. I feel strong. I’ll be damned, but I even like most of those markers of age! I tell you what- I’d take laugh lines over frown lines any day, for one.
I also find myself studying women in their 50’s and even 60’s now, too. Again, trying to ‘decide’ how I’d like to age, if that’s at all an option. I think about my grandmother, who was sooo classy and elegant and aged with such beauty and grace. I see women like Christie Brinkley and Diane Sawyer, and I think, oh my God, how is that even possible to look like that?? But, those are my role models in aging beautifully. I see them, and I think: Yes! That, that is how I want to be! And then I think: Um, I still play in dirt, and laugh at fart jokes. Sigh. I have such a starkly contradictory idea of what I want to be as I grow up. But, I also know that’s ok, too. My grandmother, for all her elegance and style, said and did some unladylike things in the privacy of her own home. I’m sure Christie and Diane do as well. (I mean, right?! They can’t be perfection all the damn time?)
Of course, I know that I can be a bit of both. I know that there’s no standard, or rules to follow. Be who you are, even if it’s twenty seven different things rolled into one. Embrace it all, love it- lines and all- because, let’s face it- the alternative to whichever life you’re living is death. And, because I know all of this, I don’t take these climbing numbers too hard.
Therefore: I have no valid explanation for being a disaster yesterday. Crap. The silver lining is, that after sitting here writing for a bit, I’m starting to feel a bit more put together. Focused. Or at least, focusing. It didn’t start off that way- my first draft of this post, four paragraphs and a couple solidly formed thoughts in, disappeared. I got up to make breakfast, top off my coffee, and stare out at the garden for ten minutes. Put some music on (80’s, yeah, baby).Started thinking about my grocery list. Scattered, still. However, here we are, reaching the end, and I’m just about ready to switch it into high gear again. I am just going to accept that it was an ‘off’ day. Planets weren’t aligned or something. It is what it is. Que Sera, que sera. And so on.
Sorry if you’ve come all the way to the end with me here, only to find, well.. nothing. I think I generally try to tidy up at the ends of these things, wrap it up with a bow and send us all on our way, but true is, I got nothin’. Except a half written grocer list (that I’ll forget at home) some ideas for a project, and some laundry to do. So, with that, I bid you adieu!
