Makeover 101

I have been thinking quite a bit about my life lately. Being on the down swing from a four year stint in grad school, I have been trying to transition back into actually living life again. Strange concept considering all that I have really focused on for 3-4 years was “To Do” lists and crossing things off of them. Well, that and just making attempts not to lose my darn mind in the process. My life is like this: no children (but praying for a someday), masters degree in Mental Health Counseling, new to us three bedroom home in need of some TLC, marriage of three years to my JG (who has received pretty much ZERO attention from me in the last 3-4 years, bless his less than patient but tolerant soul who would often whine, “I NEED ATTENTION”), currently employed as a Child Welfare Worker (MUCH to my dismay) and a counselor at a non-profit, 29-years-old, seven-year-old golden retriever, small town living, and used to not taking care of myself in order to function.

It had gotten to the point where I no longer knew what I liked to do. JG would frequently ask me, “Do you like anything anymore? What do you like to do? What is your passion? And you can’t say work!”

I had no answer for him. I didn’t know what I loved anymore. Perhaps it was just survival or I had convinced myself that I only liked school and work in order to feel as if I was not missing out. The reason is irrelevant now, but my point is that I had stopped being aware of my own being at times and completely stopped caring for myself. Now that I have relaxed a bit (2 months post graduation) and am remembering what happiness feels like, my mind slowly becoming clear enough to recognize my needs again.

Yesterday I looked in the mirror and truly wondered who the person looking back was. The person who has not had a haircut in around six months or more, gained ten pounds during a failed pregnancy two years ago and never bothered to lose it, hasn’t plucked their eye brows in months, wears the same clothing to work every week as she did the week before, only buys special dresses for work and weddings, only does her hair for Court hearings (which occur once every three months) and weddings, and whose weekend wardrobe consists of pajama pants with hoodies. You get the gist. For shame. Disheveled woman who thought she was fine because she wasn’t wearing brown shoes with black pants (only because Amanda would have yelled at my for it), had deodorant on, and earrings in. It was like being asleep for half of a decade and waking up as someone you no longer recognize or would be caught dead striving to be.

I keep having this phrase of a thought run through my head. It states, “Now is the time.” I really want to enjoy myself, my husband, my family, and my friends before I have children. Mind you, I will feel blessed no matter when it actually happens but in the meantime I know I have some genuine living to do. And repairing.

So here’s to a change. The bold, as if I have had a few cocktails, swagger in my step, kind of change. I have been contemplating for the last few days how to get from point A to point B. Quitting my job would be the most effective in catapulting the process, however, the mortgage worthy student loan payments I now have will simply not allow for such an action. One can dream right?

Anyhow, I want a splendid plan. The kind that can provide a result that will even make ME jealous of being ME. So… at random, my thoughts are: new throw pillows, massage, eye brow wax, hair cut, fall clothing, landscaping (for outdoors not for self you pervs), buy new camera, paint toenails, exercise, cook healthy food, decorating plan for bedroom, and makeover the pantry (because regardless of what everyone says, Finley and I agreed that it smelled like cat pee). Maybe tanning but that’s a stretch for me since I hate attending appointments of any kind, being a commitment phobic kind of gal and all. Plus, unlike most people, I kind of like being pale. Vampires are cool nowadays. Disheveled post-graduates…not so much.