(I feel compelled to warn you. I use questionable slang that some may use to describe female genitalia. I didn't use the big, bad one. And true to my word, I still have not used the f-bomb because my mother asked me not to.)
In the morning, I got into this terrible habit of minimizing my "get ready" minutes. Foregoing make-up, wearing a "wrinkle-free" blouse out of the fresh out of the dryer, a vigorous hair brushing (rather than re-straightening) gave me minutes back. I could get ready, with a shower, in 11 minutes. I am not really sure why I was willing to get up earlier to make fancier lunches, unload the dishwasher or attend an 8:00 meeting but not to get ready with a little extra for myself?
I needed to change this. It was so asinine that I wouldn't spend time on myself but would make chicken nuggets for Rachel's lunch at 5:45 am? I was committed on giving myself 15 minutes every morning. Regularly I would get up at 6:00 (I have become a lot faster in the making lunch department), but now I get up at 5:45. Most people would say that they would rather sleep for an extra 15 but for me this was better than rest. I am able to lotion (my skin is in shock..it's been awhile since I have used lotion), use make-up, press my clothes, accessorize and make my lunch. I know this makes me sound like High Maintenance Judith but I feel so much better. And God damn it, there is a spring in my step. (Much to the chagrin to CCW---he had nothing to do with my bounce step.)
I don't want to give the impression that I now must go out made up. On the weekends, when I am casual, make-up doesn't matter. I just give myself 15 minutes on something else. But, I do like it and I feel less...manly looking. I am just proud that I am telling myself that I am worth 15 minutes. Just 15...clam to glam, twat to hot.
This 15 minute commitment came just in time. This morning I needed it to camo up a fat zit like I was 15 again. Flashback to 1987 right in the middle of my face.
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