I worked from home today because I had a hair appointment smack dab in the middle of the day. It was the only one I could get before we leave for my nephew’s wedding on the 11th. My stylist is a busy girl and she’s taking some time off next week. I am also fortunate that my job allows this kind of flexibility.
There was definitely a time that something like this (any kind of “me” time) would light up a need (urge, craving, obsession, compulsion…choose your noun) to go out and, yep, drink. Because drinking was romantic. Felling pretty = romantic. Romantic = date night. Date night = drinking. See the logic?
Well that doesn’t happen any longer – and to be honest stopped happening long before I actually quit drinking (there’s nothing pretty about a drunk no matter how well her nails are done) – but there’s still a small, wee part of me that likes to feel pretty and desired and after a haircut or a pedicure, that part of me whispers, “You deserve to be treated gently. Like a girl.” Not a mom, not a professional woman, not a wife…but a plain ole girl. All female and squishy and soft. With pink roses. Lots and lots of pink roses.
That’s just me. There are a lot of woman who don’t feel this way and a lot of men who don’t even like that in women. That’s okay. To each their own. But for me, sometimes I just like the fact that I’m a girl and I want someone to acknowledge that side of me before I have to put her away until the next time.
Shhh…don’t tell anyone about this part of me. Wouldn’t want to damage my rep.