GOALS!!!

Doin a little more here to help rev me up for to-do’s, away from the PC.

At first, I was thinking, I don’t really HAVE any long-term goals, apart from maybe making it down to my rough goal weight, since I’ve been trending downward overall.

I won’t punish myself in any way if I get there and stay plus sized, or if I don’t quite make it to that point. It’s just an aim. But I think it’s realistic, since I do plan on getting out walking again more, once April stops acting like winter-lite.

It’s a weight I’ve been before. Not my BMI ideal weight, but I read that BMI was invented by like engineers or something random? No doctors, and no one in nutrition. So, it’s kinda bullshit anyway.

Then, I remembered something I had said when asked a similar question at a job interview, a few positions ago. I couldn’t see beyond working retail and writing/making art in my free time. That seemed the utmost of how far I’d get creatively.

Somewhat maybe because of self-doubt, but also recognizing that even IF I was making a decent living off my creativity, I would still need something on the side to get me out of the “house” regularly besides errands.

Maybe I could come up with more social hobbies to fill in that gap, but I definitely did NOT thrive staying home writing during the pandemic shutdown.

THEN I remembered this photo that I had taken of the cover of a greeting card. I had shared it on social media as “GOALS!”

Definitely beyond 10 years, going by a rough estimate of the ages of the couple in the photo. Solo, or in a relationship of some kind, however unconventional it may be, I hope to be this fabulous when I’m older. I hope I’m close to this level of fabulosity now, when I make the effort (but fabulosity may be an inner vibe more than an outward aesthetic).

At one point, I owned multiple feather boas. I wore my electric blue one with iridescent sparkly threads woven through it, at a party we all had at a local bar, after finding out our whole call center office was being laid off. It was one last hurrah to all be together before going our separate ways.

My workboy bought me drinks. Peeps bummed me smokes. I twirled around in my boa, queued up some Lady Gaga on the jukebox (“LoveGame”), and played pool with a former team lead. It was a good night.

So, I’m definitely CAPABLE of that kind of fabulosity. I’d just do it as a non-drinking, non-smoker. Older, a little wiser, but still flirty and angsty, by turn.

Sometimes, I’m a little sad for who I used to be.

According to my daughter, I went through a MAJOR personality shift, after coming home from the hospital on one of my MANY manic runs at that time. Eventually, I came down to Earth, but I was noticeably different.

For a while, she said she missed “old mom.” Eventually, she adjusted and forgot what I’d been like before.

I feel personally like I was even more whimsical, but also more easily angered. So it could’ve been me coasting on hypomania or something? I definitely created more frequently in those earlier years, but I remember feeling rage-y at times.

THAT reminds me of a goal I came up with while meditating: finding a better balance at home. Living in such a way that my home functions better for me.

Making more schtuffs.

Writing and arting.

Tapping into creativity in general, as an ongoing energy flow. Living passionately, single or not.

Damn, I had just reached for my phone to look something up, then got all distracted when I flustered Spotify by accidentally running it both on my phone and my PC.

In other music-listening news of the day, I also temporarily tangled my hair around my headphones REALLY, really badly. Fortunately only had to part with a little hair, in the process of freeing myself. Not even a strand. Just some individual pieces.

Anyway, yeah, I had just reached for my phone to search something I think online, then completely forgot what I was looking for. Huh.

Also, circling back to the call center job, the last phone coach I had before we shut down had said I’ll be in my 80’s surrounded by skulls with a foxy younger boyfriend, and pictures of my grandbabies.

Kiddo doesn’t plan on kids. I don’t blame her. There was maybe one fleeting moment where that made me rather sad. But after watching me STRUGGLE through single parenthood, I can’t say as I blame her.

Who knows? Maybe she would have made the same choice regardless. Either way, it’s totally her choice to make. And I support and respect that.

My vote is still out on the foxy younger boyfriend. Guys seem like a lot of upkeep. Lots of interest of late. Maybe even more since I’ve slimmed down? Unless that’s my imagination at work. Few of them, however, light my proverbial fire.

Yes, I am very picky and don’t like to compromise, even if that means I’m on my own.

BUT…skulls and such. YES! May I forever retain my intriguing blend of hippie/goth. I dress in lots and lots of color and frequently sparkles, but my music taste runs the gamut. And I do favor some skull-y decor.

This one, I didn’t buy, but I thought it looked uh-mazing on the shelf. Sometimes it’s fun just to photograph treasures. I don’t need to take them all home. Memento Mori!

Who knows where my mood might swing next? But I have moved on from my “Nobody Loves No One” playlist to “hippie frisbee golf,” and right now, I feel “…alright, alright, alright.”

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