Thursday, September 22, 2011
Freak Flag Flying!
One week in from quitting my job and I’ve resumed working on my new novel, renovated a closet, and worn make-up only twice. Once to go to the mall and the other time I put it on simply out of habit. I’m going to save a fortune on make-up and perfume, not to mention hair cuts. I’m now sporting a disgruntled afro and I’m torn between letting it grow out into its former unmanageable lion’s mane, complete with Pepe Le Pew streaking, or cracking the whip and taming it down to a sophisticated Judi Dench razor cut.
Actually, if I didn’t have to walk the dog in the morning I’d probably forget to brush my hair, and I’d stay in my PJ’s around the clock. Okay, that’s a bit extreme, but it amazes me how quickly I can let go of all the frilly garnishes of life; those little extras that swallow up hours of my time and money.
My husband isn’t complaining. He’s so thrilled with having me around again, to scratch his back and listen to his stories, that I could tattoo earthworms on my face and speak pig Latin with a lisp and he’d overlook it. Ours is a spiritual union.
I know that writing is a sedentary activity, so I’ve committed myself to going to the gym three times a week. I do this in order to keep myself from morphing into a giant marshmallow; although I still feel totally intimidated by all the high tech equipment (mine is a state of the art gym) and the pushy personal trainers who all but call me fatty. “I could have you down to a size three in six weeks,” they boast. Yeah, for only fifty bucks a session and a gallon of my blood. Yikes! I stay to myself, plugged into my music, and count the minutes until I can leave.
Seriously, I am extremely grateful to have this time for creativity. It’s a gift that I’d been yearning for for years, and now that it’s here I can’t imagine ever living without it. I promise not to ignore showers, waxings, and oral hygiene, but otherwise I intend to enjoy this freedom and let my freak flag fly!