Ahhh…SEPTEMBER. I have been writing a post in my head for the past several weeks titled The Fresh Start of September or something like that. As the name implies, this rambling collection of words was going to describe how, like a school girl wearing shiny new loafers on the first day of school, September is the greatest month of all time. Because it is the month I get my shit together.
This written-only-in-my-head post was powerful and poetic. It was an operatic song of prose, dammit! Because September would usher New Beginnings and everything would be better. With the kids in school for seven (seven!!) glorious hours a day, I would be able to breathe and think and…doing all sorts of indulgent things like shower. I would regain some semblance of a schedule. I would start cooking. I would organize closets. The house would freaking sparkle. I would exercise and eat healthy and lose the weight I gained over the summer. I would write more. I would I would do AllTheThings and I would do them perfectly.
Well. About that. As they say, best laid plans and all that, right? FALSE HOPE OF FALL is more like it. The kids have been in school for three weeks now, and that in-my-head post isn’t written. The closets are still a tangled mess. The toilets might be growing fuzz. Our pantry is empty because I’m scared of the grocery store. Not only have I not lost the weight I put on over the summer, but I actually added three more pounds to the tally. My attempts to cook more only made me realize how much I dislike cooking. Needless to say, I am not doing AllTheThings, nor am I doing anything perfectly.
But you know what? Perfect is boring AF, and doing AllTheThings makes people crazy. And by “people” I mean ME, it makes me crazy.
Instead of doing AllTheThings perfectly, I’m doing SomeOfTheThings half-assedly. For instance, I’m taking the dogs for a walk. Not every day, but some days. I’m eating healthier, kind of, and cooking simple things. So what if by “cooking,” I mean “re-heating in the microwave.” I’m busting my ass on my freelance projects and writing my heart out, but trying to be more realistic about my goals. I’m relaxing with my family more at night and watching television with my husband, instead of burning the midnight oil, though binge-watching “Stranger Things” took us two weeks instead of a two days and we’re still plodding through “The Night Of.”
And that written-only-in-my-head post? Well, I’ve ripped that to shreds, metaphorically of course. Because there is no Fresh Start of September. In fact, it’s kind of a shit show with all the activities and plans and transitions. We’re just plodding through.
But you know what, there is no magic pill come September, just like there is no perfect. There is only Better Than Before. And imperfect, rambling posts that actually written are much better than those perfect, poetic words that float around unwritten and lost in my.
Sometimes good enough is still pretty damn good.
(And yes, we do have a Star Wars calendar with Rey in our kitchen. It’s kind of awesome.)