Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory is on the telly. One of my absolute favorites of all time. And you know what? Charlie was great and good and all that, but there’s only one person I identify with. When I was younger, it was definitely a secret admiration. But now? We’re soul sisters.
Miss Veruca Salt. Selfish. Demanding. Bratty.
But she knew what she wanted, didn’t she?
Brattiness aside, I’m learning to just claim what I want in life and what I deserve, Veruca style. Even if it seems completely unfathomable or unlikely to happen. Being a general pessimist/cynic/skeptic/side eyer of all of life, as I’m wont to be, sometimes I turn that side eye toward myself. Which keeps me largely realistic, yes, but also occasionally limits me. Because sometimes keeping things real strips away that other thing I truly value: pure imagination. So I’m learning balance. Feet on the ground, yes, but not diminishing my possibilities, either.
So, yeah, I want *it* now. Whatever I want it to be.
Fun fact: your resident fan of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex had guessed a month ago, while admiring Meghan’s lovely pleated skirts and intriguing style choices of coats and ruffles, that perhaps there was a little royal on the way. And, yes, plenty of folks called/texted me about the exciting news this morning and to also confirm that your Square Peg called it. *modestly inclines her head while she accepts congratulations about being a good guesser*
Happy Monday, y’all.
p.s.: The coldest of rain currently falls on the ground here in Somewheres, Texas. At present, I’m wearing a scarf around my neck and another around my shoulders. Welcome to Fall, indeed.
It rained mercilessly today. There was no coffee to be had, and no time for books, but it was certainly a true rainy day. I don’t care for these kind of days, but that’s the rub of autumn. She will give you color and hues and leaves, but you shall also receive handfuls of rain.
No, this post isn’t necessarily about fall, although the last day of my trip occurred in September. But we’re flashbacking today, so it’s all good. Anywho, this past Labor Day weekend, I left on a jet plane to visit a good friend of mine who lives in Orange County, CA. Despite the fact that it was a short trip/brief vacation, it was also the respite I needed and thoroughly welcomed. We haven’t had an in depth discussion of my enduring love of California, have we? Well, if I had all the dollar dollar bills in the world, your Square Peg would hightail it to San Diego faster than you could say high cost of living. (Which is why I chose Texas instead of my beloved blue sky San Diego.) See below for a slide show of my fun trip.
Pretty clear, from the title, how I greeted the dip in the weather this early autumn morning.
Typically, I make use of the gym at the office in the mid-afternoons, having done an in-depth study of the time of day when I can have the place all to myself and enjoy the
machines and surrounding equipment. (And maybe a dance party in front of the mirrors.) However, following a strange Exercise Epiphany (strange because I’m of the view that opening my eyes before 6AM means I want to either join a crime gang or engage in other nefarious activities), I decided to wake up after 5:30 this morning and head to the office to try an early morning workout. If you’ve read about my fitness journey here on TSP, you’ll know that I’ve done this before, waking up early to work out. And you’ll see that I’ve grumbled about it every time. Nevertheless, I wanted to break up the monotony of my schedule. Here’s what I learned:
Regular gyms and office gyms don’t differ in the following: I’m not the only one who had the idea to work out super early. The gym was packed. So packed that I had to wait for a treadmill.
This didn’t bode well for my I-need-quiet-time-in-an-empty-gym mandate.
After such a thorough, calorie-burning workout, the ole stomach wanted to eat everything. Everything. Despite having my usual veggie omelet for breakfast and gaining that protein, I realized that I wanted so much more.
Which is weird because for all my morning workouts in the past, that wasn’t really a thing. Are you changing things, 40?
Anywho, in the end, I’m glad I committed to actually waking up and doing this. Maybe it’ll happen again…
Which means I definitely have plans to join a crime gang.
I wrote this poem a few years ago. It has a fairly familiar theme. *wink*
I pull open the doors for you, my intermittent love, eager to greet you with the cool kisses of yet another fall. It does not bother me that you arrive once a year bearing your all-consuming brevity. It does not trouble me that I compete with the other colors in your world.
Do hopeless beggars have the power of choice?
You are mine. Whether orange moons or darkened afternoons– whether burnished leaves or hearts exposed on long sleeves– You are mine. Cloak me with the fleeting warmth of your love and affection and disregard what errant tears you may see from me, for we have so little time.