For the last few weeks, I’ve had that niggling feeling that there’s something I’m forgetting. Something slightly important that I couldn’t put my finger on. A thing that always takes second when it comes to choosing between it and washing dishes, or it and sleeping, or it and staring blankly into space.
I forgot about Ad Astra.
It turned into the thing that you ignore, like the large pile of dust bunnies, dog hair, and Wint-O-Green Lifesavers wrappers that accumulate under the bed. You know the one. In the spirit of sweeping out dust monsters, I made a plan.
- Go skydiving (just kidding. Already did that.)
- Dye hair crazy colors to look like those crazy people whose responsibility and sanity you have always doubted. While sitting at the salon, rethink purpose in life and ponder the deliciousness of Skittles.
- Experiment with hybrid dust bunny/dog hair sculptures. Become a famous artist. Win the internet.
- Drive to Maine or Montreal or NYC because reasons (we did take the twins to Bar Harbor a few weeks ago!).
- Sleep more.
- Take a break from writing for clients. Put literal pen to literal paper for myself.
The magic life-refocusing formula really came together when Manny took Micah out of town to visit family for the weekend. When you have twins and suddenly you only have one baby to care for–in particularly, the one baby who sleeps soundly all night long–it feels like vacation on the beach sipping something pink.
It also feels like vacation when Mom is in town to help out.
The book life has taken a backseat to knitting life and dishwashing life and baby life, but I picked up All the Light We Cannot See last time I was at Barnes & Noble, and I’m reading a few pages at a time as I get the chance. I’m a sucker for WWII books, and though I’m only 30 or so pages in, this one has me intrigued. Since I didn’t finish my 2015 reading list, I’m going to renovate it, keep plugging away at the ones I didn’t manage to check off, and add a few more. The bucket list is also going to be revisited very soon.
In other news, my untrendy, unfashiony, somewhat boring self jumped on a hair bandwagon for the first time ever (and possibly the last time ever) and got myself some oil slick/galaxy/peacock/whatever hair.
It was a very very very long six hours in a salon and my husband will probably never forgive me, so I’m going to appeal to his stomach and make a few dozen apple pies. Or something. Ideas? Anyone?