Sometimes your ego gets run into the ground leaving you insecure, shaking, jittery and babbling to your best friend on the phone at 4 AM—lucky for both of you she lives in a different time zone. Ego kicks come from all over—maybe you got fired, maybe a project you had been invested in fell through, or maybe you just got dumped by your boyfriend of 3 years—heck, even of 3 weeks! You never know how stuff is going to affect you. One minute, you’re flying high and the next you’re pacing around the room at all hours of the night looking like you’ve had one too many Four Loko (and one IS too many). Whenever I am feeling down, the key to getting back on my feet is being gentle with myself. And how do I do that? With a whole lot of indulgence.
I indulge in everything, all across the border.
One day, I might feel like indulging by ignoring a responsibility to take a 3 hour yoga workshop or spending a disgusting 8 dollars on a green juice from Whole Foods—highway robbery!
The next, I might feel like indulging by going out for drinks with friends even if, so what, it IS a Monday and I DO have work early the next morning. Maybe indulgence is a pint of vegan ice-cream, or a new pair of shoes. Maybe it’s listening to super emo music–I prefer Bright Eyes, Damien Rice and Stereophonics when feeling the need to mope–and having a good sob session.
Maybe indulgence is finally letting that dangerous boy come over. You know, the super sexy one who has been hounding you for years, with whom you flirt shamelessly but avoid any actual confrontation with because 1) they are so pretty you can’t sit still when they are around and 2) they talk a bit too sweetly and 3) you have a suspicion that the list of women they have slept with is longer than the graduation roster at your small liberal arts college. So maybe there is a hurricane and maybe you let them spend the night, and although you insist on staying in (most of) your clothes, maybe you let them hold you for no other reason than you’re sad, lonely, and they look as good without their shirt as Mathew McConaughey. Go ahead, rub their seemingly Photoshopped chest while muttering “pretty pretty pretty.” Take a picture of them in your bed and send it to your friends as proof. Live a little. Perhaps this isn’t the best way of dealing and moving on, but it’s how I do.
How do YOU do? I want to know!