It's Time

I've had 3 "experiences" around The Compact since we started at the 1st of the year, so it seems like time to write about it.  Four experiences, actually.

And, I've been resisting the blog "thing" for a while now.  Another good reason to start.

All of January passed with any close purchases, painful longings or feelings of lack.  

Then I had a dream that I was in a boutique and found, hidden under stacks of other clothes in a cubbie-like nook, a feminine, blousy tank top I'd been eyeing a for a while (in the dream).  My first thought was "oh, it's finally on sale!"  

That's when I remembered I couldn't buy it, and I woke up.

The next incident started with Allie wanting to switch out her old computer for my Mac Mini, which was orphaned when I got my new MacBook (clearly pre-Compact).  Her outlet was not the appropriate 3-prong deal.  

Of course, first response is to "go get one" at Hollywood Hardware.  

I was so proud of my man.  He uncharacteristically searched all drawers, cabinets, and the garage for an available adapter.  Nada.  But he did find updated outlets that we never installed in our old house.  

So, short of a tool belt, he pulled handyman rank and switched out the plug.  Whew, close call.

Then, as far as I'm concerned, we had a failure.  Allie announced in the early evening that she needed a sombrero for a school dance performance the next day.  Damn it!

This time, Ron didn't even blink... just told Allie to start calling party supply stores.  

I couldn't believe it!  But I played my role of silent fuming wife/stepmother brilliantly.  At least I didn't make a passive aggressive comment (or did I?).

So, the sombrero was purchased.  F!!  F-word!  We got an F, big fat F for fail.

Allie "donated" the hat to her teacher.  I think that was my Neosporin on the wound.

Then another dream.  Last night.

So it's this whole self-loathing dream where I'm perpetuating the "I'm not good enough" story. The events of the dream are not nearly as upsetting in waking hours as they are while I'm asleep and actually pushing the huge glass case over my massage client.

So I'm in my story and stuck in a pattern of self yuck and feeling sick about myself... and then I'm shopping.  There's a cute top (I'll spare the details) and I really want it.  I remember The Compact and I'm thinking, "Screw it!  I'm pissed and this is going to make me feel better."

I knew it before, but I really tasted this morning how I shop to feed, to fill, to numb, to escape. Not all the time, but I have definitely shopped in that way before.

It's empowering to not have the option.  Almost like a get out of jail card.  I don't have to have all the right things, the latest, this year's whatever.

I also can't just fill hole.

It's going to be a long and insightful year.