If I don't want to do something, I simply don't do it. Yard work, house work, activities. I just can't seem to find the enthusiasm for it all. I used to never pass up on helping do all of these things or just doing them myself, because I always felt that I was a bad or lazy person, because of it. And sure, I still do have days where I force myself to do things like clean the house and do laundry. I still go to work every day and I still make sure my pups are taken care of. Aside from that though, the pickens are slim.
Example: D: Do you want to help me stain this porch? Me: No, not really.
I also used to make sure I did a little something to my hair and applied a tad of makeup every single day. Whether I was working or just hanging out around the house, it was part of my daily routine. I even kept my hair long so I could straighten it and make it look presentable to some standard.
Now, I'm at the point that I could care less what people think about my appearance. Don't like it? Don't look at it. And whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, I don't know. Honestly, I don't care. I don't even have the effort to care. If I want to slap on a little makeup and curl my hair, I do it. If not, well.... little ole gypsy from Drag Me To Hell, here I come.
It's also come to my attention that the shorter my hair is, the better I seem to feel. I used to have a borderline nervous breakdown if my hair was short, because I always thought that "the prettiest girls have long hair." I've come to realize that's ridiculous and I was dumb for thinking that. Plenty of woman have short hair, or no hair at all and rock that shit.
Now, I teeter on the line of a nervous breakdown daily, so trivial things like hair don't even register on my wavelength. Therefore, I called Lia and scheduled to have more chopped off this coming Wednesday. Yes, even shorter with our wedding almost two months away. Because that's who I am as a person.
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