I'm on Pottery Barn Teen dot com which is, apparently, supposed to be marketed towards children yet I'm about to spend fifty of my hard-earned dollars on two pillow shams that have hearts.
I'm enjoying this day off. My appointments were easy yesterday. I cried in the morning because I was nervous. Brad patted me on the head like a dog and sent me encouraging text messages, leading up to me exclaiming "THEY'RE NOT GONNA DO IT!" It being a pap smear. They just said, "K, your prescription is at your pharmacy now. Anything else?"
We got sushi for lunch. I filled my belly, drove to my parents' house, and fell onto their couch. I went to bed at 7 PM, with my new Invisalign tray throbbing in my mouth. I woke up at 6 and made donuts with the new donut pans my dad got me for Christmas (two regular; one heart shaped.)
I went to my barre class this morning. This studio has only been open for three months and she is already selling out her classes. It's weird being crammed into the tiny dance room with fifteen other people. A few months ago she asked me if I would consider being one of her instructors once her new studio space is open. At the time I was so desperate for work that I didn't even consider how flattering that offer really was. I told her I was waiting on a job offer, that I eventually got. She's doing so well and her business is taking off and I'm proud. I miss it.
I need to go buy a beanie and some more barre leggings. I purchased 10 classes at a mediocre studio in Newbury Park that I can go to after work. Then I bought 5 more to this one.
My mom got me sparkly leg warmers for Christmas.
And panda salt and pepper shakers.
I'm ready to get on with things but the only apartment we've liked so far isn't even available for another month.
To be honest though, the transition is rough but things are pretty good. Like,
yeah, I have fits of crying in my car. And I’ve been a snappy bitch to Brad about things that don't matter. And sometimes it’s a physical
challange for me to go to work because the monotony of every day life
absolutely kills me and I constantly dream of going on just a teeny-tiny
adventure just to feel good again. It’s cool though. Like, I accept
this shit, you know? And I think that’s 99% of the battle.
Health insurance. Dental insurance. Vision insurance. Free master's degree. Salary. Three years.
Also I’m working on this theory that this entire world was made for
me. As evidenced by that time I saw a deaf guy wearing a Guns ‘N’ Roses
t-shirt. That’s awesome. That’s a moment that was meant especially for
me. I know because I’m the only one who stifled laughter as he walked
into the room.
Life is a playground for assholes, and I am most definitely an asshole.