Treat Yo’self!

There are some parts of adulting I love. Like rearranging my apartment and finding ways to incorporate spearmint green into every room. Or cooking my own food. Or choosing almond milk over whole milk. Or coffee over ice cream.

There are some parts of adulting I hate. Like buying groceries in a crowded Walmart on a stifling Saturday morning. Or evaluating my finances. Or cleaning my bathroom. Or doing the dishes.

But occasionally there are days like today in which what I hate collides with what I love and produces indifference. I adulted last night and stayed up too late watching Doris Day movies. I woke up with ten minutes to spare and after completing my first obligation, I went back to bed for two hours. I drove without my GPS (yay!) to my endocrinologist appointment, the first one in six months. May I just say . . . I HATE GIVING BLOOD! I get so nervous I break out in a rash and my arms go numb. The pain from the needle prick lasts two seconds, but I can feel the blood leaving my body. Three vials later

I was light-headed but had no choice but to adult myself home. So . . . I decided to treat myself. To coffee. Because fasting for blood work means I don’t get coffee until 1:00 in the afternoon. Not okay. Two of my beautiful day-camp kids gave me a gift card to Dairy Queen, and since I adulted earlier this week and looked at my finances, I decided to use the gift card. I, again, drove without the GPS and somehow ended up at the Cheesecake Factory and Ihop. And then Dairy Queen. A large salted caramel iced coffee and a regular cheese curds order later, and I’ve almost forgotten that I gave blood at 11:30. Except for the bruise that has developed around my vein.

On a less disgruntled note, I have discovered in this last week of minimalism that if I can quiet myself down enough, nothing can make me happier than reading a book. Tomorrow I am going to avoid all media until noon and then take the weekend to evaluate my commitments and identify my goals for the remainder of this year. A lot can happen in four months. A lot could distract me from my purpose.



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