Shit I Need to do This Year
an open letter to myself
In no particular order and strictly off the top of my head
* Botox. Get some. No one needs to look like that.
* Closets. Edit. Extreme edit. Empty.
* Weight. Lose it.
* Gym. Three times a week. Minimum.
* Be gentler to yourself, but not so easy. It's a fine line. Find it.
* Stop being fat.
* Stop being stupid.
* Stop being ugly.
* Ooops. See above.
* FOCUS!!!!
* Sewing; tablecloths, curtains, buttons.
* Sculpting; steampunk.
* Painting. Anything..
* Find a part-time job. Savings will not last forever, and poor, fat, old and ugly does not a winning combination make.
* Stop that.
* Voices in your head; don't listen to them. He loved you because he thought you were strong, smart and beautiful. Be at least half the woman he imagined you to be.
I just went in the back and looked in the guestroom dresser, searching for the fabric I bought in Paris to make a tablecloth. I realized, once again, as I heard myself form the phrase, "the fabric I bought in Paris..." how glamorous that sounded; what a wonderful life I have lived, what a priceless gift I have been given. I have loved and been well-loved, first by mom and dad, then by my husband. I have been treated generously and with kindness, even when I deserved it least. I have traveled far and with gusto; I have seen wondrous things and met memorable people. Up until the day Russ died, my life was full, and everything I needed it to be. I have been so fortunate in all things but one; that it had to come to an end. Even there I have been lucky; I had a good run.
That's life. I weep with gratitude to all those who gave so generously of themselves. I am still here in spite of my best efforts, and I need to make it matter. I still don't know how, but I have to find a way. I am alone, and I have chosen to be, rather than try and replace the irreplaceable. But there are still friends to enjoy and care for. There are still places to go and people to meet, and I don't want to crawl into my hermit hole, however cozy, content half-inhabiting a shadow life, just me, my dogs, some books and TV. I feel the allure of it, but that way lies waste, and would do a disservice to those who gave me so much. I have to do better. Such a cliche'; live, love, laugh. I cringe every time I hear it, or see it embossed on a stone, pillow or poster. And yet... oh, well. Happy New Year and Carpe diem, Gi. Get off your fat ass and do something.
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