When I am not feeling my fittest I start to do the freak out thing. That's where I begin a personal overhaul that doesn't include working on the issue that is annoying me so badly. It is ridiculous but inevitable and predictable. I start to shoe shop (because no matter how un-awesome you feel, new shoes aid in that "retail therapy" way). Then I obsess about my hair for a couple of weeks untilI can't stand the sight of it. I search celebrity locks for something to drool at. The first choices are always extreme and not even remotely anything I could pull off. The second batch of looks may be either the total opposite end of the spectrum in both style and color, or drastically different in length, depending on what exactly is getting under my skin when looking at my own head. Lastly, I find one thing I really like out of the over-the-top choices and tone it down from celebrity to realistic. I usually put my plan in action by taking matters into my own hands ( which really means trial and error with disaster and a handful of trips back to the grocery store, often wearing a hat, to hit up the boxes of Clairol color). After finding the lesser of the evil red hues (never fails no matter what tones I choose) I wrestle with the moral conflict of having spent twice the amount of a salon colorists time ( not to mention missing out on the lovely salon gossip and piles of rag mags featuring expired celebrity drama). I now have newer color and need a trim. And only mildly satisfied (because I am not really addressing the issue of feeling unfit) I go back to shoe shopping. Very viscous cycle I am aware. But would you rather I sulk and yell? Yeah, me neither. And clothes shopping at this point is VERY counterproductive to mood boosting (let's be honest, that is usually the act that gets the whole ball rolling with the freak out). I will do better with walking and eventually running after we move and I am not spread so thin with packing and such. But for now my ritual of denial and attention to areas that didn't do anything, will have to do. Plus Aidan can't really ride safely in the jogging stroller till he has that bobble head thing down better (because I am going to run so fast that we need to worry about whiplash!! hehe, right).
Kelly and I were joking about the way I take things out on the wrong subjects (he was meaning himself though). I was picking on him and he asked why. I informed him that I torture him as to not lash out at everyone else. To which he replied : "I am saving the world!". Yes dear. Something like that.