Thirtysomething

Making My Blood Run Cold

Over here in the vortex of viruses, my pink eye is getting increasingly worse and I'm beginning to wonder whether I should call my doctor. Not only is it annoying as hell, but nothing can really make a girl feel more unpretty than something being wrong with her face. Like a bloodshot eye that's almost swollen shut.

So I got to thinking that I should cheer myself up with some shopping. I looked online at the usual suspects, namely Banana and Ann, to see if anything piqued my interest. And here's the scary part: nothing did. Oh, I saw some things I liked, but the thought of having to actually go and try things on...well, it seemed like too much effort. Perhaps some of you are thinking "I hear ya, sister!" but for me, this is very strange. I love trying on clothes. More, I love BUYING clothes. And yet I've had no desire to do so. Same thing with shoes. Now, I haven't been able to wear heels since Rolo was born. It's a long, sad story that I won't go into here, but next month I need to arrange to see a podiatrist, something I am totally dreading. Anyway, no desire to buy shoes either, not even fun ballet flats. I've been basically been living in my Sketchers. I'm all about a comfortable shoe, but c'mon, all the time with the Sketchers?

What is happening here, exactly? At first I thought, maybe I'm I just don't want to shop because I've gained a few pounds. But the more I think about, the more I don't think that's it. I'm just not interested. It's like I've forgotten the joy that is shopping.

And then I had a startling realization: maybe this is how it starts. I've always railed on women who go out and get generic haircuts, start buying all their clothes at Walmart and drive mini-vans (shudder). But maybe they used to care. Maybe they used to be fashionable. Maybe they used to live their own lives. Maybe this, this not caring about shopping, maybe this is how it starts. Maybe by this time next year my hair will be frosted and I'll be wearing white knock-off Keds. People, that thought made my blood run cold. I haven't stopped shaking since.

Please tell me there is hope here. Please tell me that by having a child I did not commit myself to a lifetime of bad cars and polyester pants.

Labels: not the mama

posted by DJ Heavy D @ 6:26 AM