There’s not too many ailments or bad moods that a hot bath can’t cure, in my opinion. Something about the hot water, suds, and the absence of time pressures equals up to something magical. Tonight, however, nothing could distract me from a ridiculous parade of worries, mostly about how I could be better in one way or another: I should update my blog more than I do. I should really wash my own car instead of paying someone to do it. I should be saving more money. I have to think of better New Year’s resolutions. I should have gone to yoga class tonight. I should read the stack of Time magazines on my nightstand instead of the three ‘fluff’ novels I checked out today*.
Ugh. I get it. I do. I’m getting too old to make excuses, and I sincerely want this year to be my best yet. But I also want to learn how to give myself a break. As I was sitting on my bed, mulling all of this over, I glanced at my dresser and noticed a card, previously hidden by my Advent calendar:
… and it totally made me laugh, think about the friend that gave it to me, and forget about all of the ridiculousness that’s been flooding my mind all day. Because in the end, who’s gonna care about how many current events I kept up with, or how many times I overpaid to have my car detailed? Nobody. Not even me.
Here’s to a (hopefully) carefree New Year!
*On a side note, I’m really, really excited about my three trashy reads.