Do you ever feel overcome with the undeniable urge to do something drastic in your life?
I do.
Sometimes it’s selling all my worldly possessions for a one-way ticket to Paris and my first month’s rent, and I’ll figure the rest of it out when I get there.
Other times it’s chopping my hair as short as Emma Watson did after she finished filming the last Harry Potter—
—despite the fact that I don’t even come close to having the right chin for such a cut.
Sometimes it’s throwing caution to the wind and buying a brand new car (crossover, actually, is what I’d prefer, with all-wheel drive and leather seats and a heated steering wheel and a backup camera) even though owning George Jettson free and clear has been such a wonderful, liberating six-month stint.
Ultimately I always talk myself out of such extreme and spontaneous measures based on some unactualized subconscious feeling that I just probably shouldn’t…or maybe it’s just fear.
I hold out hope that someday I’ll actually do something spur-of-the-moment and rash, free-spirited like that. I have a feeling once I do it I will kick myself for waiting so long.
Until then there’s always white nail polish to make me feel adventurous.
Well, unless you count buying pecans at the Bulk Barn on Seniors Citizens’ day with my 10% discount.
Because clearly my life is just that thrilling.
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