I have been super tense, stressed or whatever you want to call going out of your mind with worry and fear. I realized that my closets started to bulge like never before. My goodness, I could not throw away stuff fast enough. On the way home from my pilgrimage to the little boutique up the road, I realized what the heck I have been doing for nearly all of my life. Yes, I love to look nice and absolutely adore the smell of new crispy clothes. But there is a flippin’ limit to what a regular human being needs. Five closets full of sedatives. Oh my gosh when I realized that all of those clothes were not a necessity to cover the body but a necessity to cover the soul, I stopped the car in a dark parking lot and laughed at myself until I cried. At that moment I hated everything. Stop! Do not give in to this shit, I said out loud to no one. It was then that I realized I have been going to the stores when life gets too much to be comfortable and or when I have to make a decision, or when things pile up on my plate. I have come to see each garment as a tranquilizer of the past or as you will, a sedative I needed at one time or another. I have sedatives and tranquilizers from over 20 years ago maybe, probably longer. I can’t seem to throw them away. Do I think I will need them again someday to fill a void or erase a pain? Still parked in the parking lot, my thoughts brought me back to the two bags in the back seat of my car. Yes, the sedatives are still working, but for how long? Will they wear off once I take them out of the bag, or when I cut the tags off? How long will it be until I need the next fix? Wait a minute; I don’t care when I will need the next fix. It is not harming my health, it is not putting me in debt; it is not hurting anyone. Now, I have come to grips with it all and very glad there is an outlet for me. The only thing I will need to do is get more closet space. Hey, how about double poling the closets I already have. I can double my tranquilizing capabilities. Oh yes.
09 Apr 2010 2 Comments
I had an interesting experience when we went into the Museum of Tolerance with our Brandeis group. We had to go through a metal detector.(17 of us) When we left the museum, the lady I drove with got all upset at the car and said the guy never put her keys back into her purse. I do not know what happened, but I could see into her purse for a moment as if it were clear plastic. I saw her keys right there. I asked her if I could put my hand into her purse, she said yes. I didn’t even rummage around, I just put my hands right on the keys and pulled them out. The ladies were stunned and woweyed me etc. For some reason, they had a great deal more respect for me on the way to lunch. So I took advantage of that. I got them the number 1 parking place right behind the restaurant. They said they think I am psychic. No, I am not, but did not mention that I used to live in that community for 5 years when I was having our babies. (Cheviot Hills, West L A.) And besides Century City is right there where my parents lived and we went that way twice a week for years and years. So getting parking was not hard. But the key thing, well, I am also amazed. Seeing through purses is not my ordinary thing.