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Friday, March 4, 2011

In my next life...

Sometimes I pop off random "what if" type musings/fantasies. Giving voice to them earns me rolled eyes from my daughter "In my next life, I'm going to be Jen Aniston when I grow up. And Cher when I get old." (Think I got The Look for that one because according to my daughter I'm already So Old and So Weird) Or how about "In my next life, I'll be fat when I'm young instead of when I'm old--it's gotta be easier to lose weight when you're young." (they don't have to make sense--the silliness provides me my own much-needed levity, thank you very much)

And all these "in my next life"s got me thinking they'd be great to use for a character in a book, one who spouts them all the time, or maybe to use as subtitles.

Yeah, because I write all the damn time, right? I should have that puppy written in a month.

Which is whiny, but dang. Too many things are getting between me and the Word program.

But then I start thinking there must be a way to work writing time into my nonschedule (because, at heart, I am a glass-is-so-charming-I-should-get-one-like-it, er.... glass-half-full kind of girl). Hey, I can be optimist and still be whiny now and then. So let's see. If I quit fixing my hair and wearing makeup, I could have roughly another 30 minutes per day. Plenty of women "my age" just wear their hair straight and have severed their ties with Maybelline. And if I abandon styling the hair, I might as well ditch the dye too--that's a good 30 minutes every 3 weeks. If I went to showering only every 3rd day, on those 2 days in between, I'd have almost another 30 minutes, accounting for the shower, toweling, and moisturizing... plus then I'd save all that time weighing myself (which I do every time I shower while my feet are damp so I can do the bodyfat thing too and get even more annoyed about being old and fat). I could ditch blogging, which averages 15 minutes per weekday. Cut back sleep to 3 or 4 hours per night and I'd gain another 2-3 hours. Quit making the bed and--no, never mind. Not making the bed would make me feel all (insert Pat laugh from old SNL skits). Yergh. Can't skip that. Maybe instead of walking just to exercise, I could walk to work--shave off the time I'd normally spend driving. And since I won't be loofa-ing my feet in the shower anymore, those calluses will build and eventually I won't need shoes, which will save all that time searching for the right socks with the right shoes, then lacing up.

I think I'm onto something.

So in a few weeks if you see an old shoeless gray chick hobbling toward a school, with a laptop bag and a lunch box, and fume-waves like PigPen's all around, it's probably me. Write a note on my Facebook wall and I'll get back to you ASAP.


Happy Friday, peeps.

Autumn Piper
Got time?

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