My 34th was approaching and I was conversing with my best friend Chelle.
Best Friend
As we discussed our daily lives and our general lots in life, we found, as many our age do, that we had both fallen into ruts. Rather easy, somewhat anti-social, exceptionally dull ruts. With another birthday on the horizon, I had to stop and assess – I used to have fun. I used to BE fun. So what the hell has happened to me?
Me
Here’s the thing – you don’t see ruts coming. They aren’t like the flame spurts in the Fire Swamp (if you get that reference, you totally get me) where popping sounds precede them. Ruts are like the lightning sand that you stupidly fall into while minding your business. Next thing you know, unless some pirate hottie dressed in black is willing to dive in, shake things up and pull you out, well, you’re screwed because, as Ferris testifies, life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while you get eaten by those R.O.U.S. bastards that have you surrounded … ok, so I’m paraphrasing.
I mean when was the last time I’d cracked a smile at a neighbor that wasn’t mostly forced because I was too “busy” to care? When was the last time my thoughts towards strangers were kind before snide? When was the last time I guffawed? I am talking full on howling, belly- jiggling, cracking-up-while-I-pee-my-pants-so-damn-funny, roll-on-the-floor guffaw?
Through our conversation, I realized at nearly 34 years of age, I had become … content (GASP!). And much less nice. Meeting a buddy for happy hour took too much time out of my day. Grabbing lunch was a hassle. I had things to do and places to be (namely in front of my TV). Try something new? HA! I am in my thirties, people. I know what I like and have complete confidence in my comfort level, so why bother with something new? THIS was my rut. Comfort and routine had become my Fire Swamp.
Our conversation had suddenly become my wake up call.
Hello, Lady! Wake up!
No, I am NOT trading in my hubby for a new pair of boobs and whatever else is included in a midlife crisis these days. I’ve just decided to revive the impulse I used to have to get out and DO things. The word “yes” will be my pirate hottie and he is going save me from comfort and routine. “Yes” will make me seize once in a lifetime moments that I’ll never be able to repeat. Steak tartare, even though it sounds disgusting? YES! A tabletop meet-up, even though it’s with total strangers? YES! Dancing all night, even though I dance like Elaine? YES!
I will put myself out there, however fun or awkward or outright disastrous, new opportunities will be seized! I will become social again, and not through an electronic device, but in the 1996 “hey, what’s up?” in real life way. And I will never regret. No-take-backs. Here I come.
