Have you ever wanted to reinvent yourself?
You know, as in disappear for at least a month and really fix things? My life needs a celestial handyman. He would be tall, dark, handsome, basically just a nice to look at but not distracting so. That would not be good, because this isn’t about sex. This is a divine intervention.
I wanna go away to a luxurious spa and recupe. Body, mind, spirit, 5 star facilities. My cell phone will be confiscated and not a computer in sight! Fuck technology! I’m over it. I’m over my various accounts across seas of social media and websites I vaguely even remember.
Remember reading books? I’ve got half a bookcase full, unread and collecting dust. A closet half-full of clothes that were just not that into me. A wealth of notebooks/journals/memo pads, half-used and abandoned scattered about. Piles of paperwork and mail I halfway remember and now must bear the burden seeing through to completion. Taco’s half-chewed rawhide bones across my bedroom carpet. Half-assed Ed Hardy paraphernalia under a box in the back of my closet. (Shame)
Half full half full half full.
If my life weren’t so scattered, I wonder what that would be like.
And so, I’d like to go away to a happy place, chill, luxuriate, and come back thinner and more organized with a new sense of direction. My rejuvenated self would be so genuinely laid back and focused, nothing would be hard anymore.
Is this health procedure covered in my Aetna plan? No. You’d think so seeing how much I’ve paid them for years. Nothing even close. Rehab centers don’t count.
My dilemma continues.
What should I do?
For now, I’ll meditate on it and clean my room, starting with the closet.