Saturday, April 29, 2006

The Calm AFTER the Storm

You know that feeling you get right before a big storm hits? I know Floridians know what I'm talking about. You run to CVS for batteries. You make sure your cell phone is fully charged. You beat old ladies over the head with your empty wallet for the last case of water on the Publix shelf. You creep out at night to a back alley to buy a generator from a guy named Fingers. You run and you run and you run in hopes that when the storm hits, you're fully prepared for any disaster.

That's been my life for the last three years.

But what about AFTER the storm? Eventually the winds die down. Eventually the A/C comes back on. Eventually you can flush it if it's yellow OR brown. Eventually you gather with neighbors and chainsaws and return your property to a habitable environment.

Then you let out a sigh and do... what? Prepare for the next storm? Take a hot shower? Then what?

That's where I am this morning. What the HELL am I supposed to do now?
I have an entire weekend, and I don't have to write a paper. I don't have to study for a test. I don't have to run to the bookstore to read through a chapter in my textbook uninterrupted.

I don't have a damned thing that has to be done. Therefore, I do NOT know what do to with myself.

It's the weirdest feeling. I was looking forward to being done with school, and now I'm looking forward to enrolling at FSU and working toward my BA... because I'm use to this striving, and I'm not use to this resting.

So I have filled my day with non-essential tasks in order to give myself something to HAVE to do. I'm going to the mall with one of my girls (the other is in a singing competition in NYC this weekend) and we are going on a quest to find the perfect pair of jeans for her, and the perfect shirt for me. We are going to drive way the hell out of our way to sample sushi at a new restaurant. Later this evening, I'm really going out on a limb. I'm going "out with the girls." I'm going dancing or whatever you call it when a bunch of bitchy, overworked, overtired women get together, bitch about their jobs, then hit a bar. I'm not sure what to wear, do, say, or drink. And even though I'm uncomfortable, I'm doing it anyhow.

Final note: I have officially lost just over 25 pounds now. My size ten shorts still don't fit.

Somewhere in my brain is the thought that I should be celebrating my graduation AND my mini-goal. Somewhere in my husband's brain he knows this will lead to a higher AMEX bill this month.

So, off to the mall with me. Have a blessed weekend.

This is Funky, and that is all.