Saving The Best ‘Til Last

When I was little I refused to mix up any of the foods on my plate. Now that I’m 25, I still refuse to mix up any of the foods on my plate. I mean, I’ll allow them to be mixed up, but you can be damn sure I’m going to pick out all of the bits I don’t like and eat those first, and then work my way through until I’ve saved the best bits until last. I only just realised that that’s what I do with pretty much everything else in life, as well.

As I write this, I am drinking a pina colada. I am sitting in my pyjamas, with no makeup on and my hair pulled back, drinking an actual pina colada. Which, to be honest, is disgusting because I put so much rum in it that even I, with my tendencies towards being an old soak, can’t drink more than a tiny sip at a time. Anyway, I digress. My pina colada came from a ready-made mix. It’s basically a pouch of pineapple juice with some coconut. I got this pouch in a goody bag from an event. So far, so good. Now, that event was in July. I haven’t made my pina colada in the last four months because I was saving it. I don’t even know what for. Maybe until I had the right kind of glass and a tiny cocktail umbrella. It’s been sitting on my bookshelf (the natural habitat of the pre-made pina colada mix) for all that time, like the visual embodiment of a promise of a perfect day to come. I also have varied beauty products, a giant bar of Galaxy, and countless empty notebooks. All waiting for everything to be perfect.

It’s only very recently that I’ve realised that saving everything is a terrible trait to have. I’ve always looked at it as a way of ‘savouring’ the moment. Maybe I would’ve enjoyed that Pina Colada on a summer’s day, sitting in my garden, flipping through a magazine and waiting for my nails to dry. But that moment I wanted to savour is never going to come because I don’t like sitting still for that long anyway, and now it’s nearly winter.

If it was just the odd freebie or stationery item, it maybe wouldn’t be a big problem, but it’s everything. I never get to wear my favourite clothes because I want to “save” them. I never get round to seeing the films or watching the TV shows that everyone else in the world talks about because I want to “save” them. I never get round to acting on the 100,000 really good ideas I have for my other blog because I’m waiting for the time to be right. I’m not sure what the right time even looks like for that.

I don’t lack drive or creativity, what I lack is the freelance lifestyle, the perfect wardrobe, and the minimalist, white, shabby-chic office of my dreams. The time is never right.

So this is me committing to no longer caring. The time will never be right, and that’s OK. I’m going to drink my pina colada, I’m going to treat writing like a job that I have to get done regardless of surroundings, and I am going to wear every single one of my hair mask samples while I eat my Galaxy bar. All of it. At once.

Well, I never said this was going to be pretty.

If you like pina coladas...

If you like pina coladas…

Does anyone else have this problem? What are you all waiting for? I mean that in a literal, interested way, and not as a rhetorical question…

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