The more apt words would be: “I’m gonna fake it till I make it.” I don’t particularly like this phrase, more than anything because it is really a 12-step mantra. Now, I don’t have anything against 12-steppers and actually pertains to something else altogether, but it doesn’t really jive with the life I have set up for myself. So, instead, “I’m Gonna Pretend.”
Last night, I had about six hours sleep, in two 3-hour blocks. I’ve been sleeping pretty much this way for the last week. So, I’m gonna pretend that I just rolled off my expensive bed at half past ten, feeling totally refreshed. I know I can pretend this one, because I have for the past 32 years. Yep, even as a baby, I wasn’t a good sleeper. So I can do this. I have a little under-eye concealer and my clothes match and aren’t wrinkled. The appearance of success. I, generally, look like a normal young person ready to walk out the door.
Now if I can just get my foot stuffed into this show, I’d be golden. The cellulitis (which, Keflex, the treatment, is “apparently” the key to all of my stomach woes, says Dad’s wife who is a nurse). Shoes are important, but they aren’t terribly important. I choose my most stretchy pair, even though they look like they need to be run through the washing machine. Trust me, people are not looking at my damn feet when I walk into a room. They’re wondering how my hair got just that big, and then maybe wondering the same thing about my butt.
Shoes on, clothes on…will travel. I’m gonna pretend.
And that’s my plan for today. I am going to run every single weird-ass errand I have to run, from getting my CPAP looked at to making a run to the Rez to buying gas to seeing if I can’t find some lavender oil drops to make Kizzie less anxious during storms and fireworks. I might even stop and get my car vacuumed out and washed. Just because I have the free tickets and because I can.
So my friends, I’m gonna pretend that I don’t still feel slightly crappy, that I’m not tired as hell, that I’d rather be in bed. I’m gonna pretend and I’m going to try and stay out all day.
Because I am a Talbott-woman, because I rock that, and because I can. And maybe, just because I can.
(and also, staying inside another minute is going to drive me insane)
(and you would suffer because I would just keep on blogging, on and on)