This morning I browsed the Bryant Park vendors after exiting the cognitive therapist's office. I went home with a slubby gray-black scarf and wrapped up in the City early enough to come home and type in here.
On the weekend Dmitri drove us to Tanoreen. New York magazine rated this Middle Eastern "best cheap eats." A plaque on the wall reads: "Pray for peace in Jerusalem." We had the shrimp in garlic sauce with Egyptian rice-and-vermicelli. I had the pureed pumpkin soup and he had the baklava. The restaurant is crowded and loud. It's recommended you try the lamb dishes however I don't eat lamb or duck or any of those other meats.
Friday in the Esprit store I found a sporty purple pocketbook I will wear on Saturday when I venture into the City again.
I've begun working on the inspiration board: it has a photo of me in Italy wearing a red sweater and a photo of me in London wearing a red coat; also a photo of me in the red Soho jacket holding a coffee mug in front of the defunct Lolabelle's.
I'll pick up a red paint swatch or two to include on the cork board. This color figures prominently because the theme of my life now is "meditation in movement" and red is a passionate color.
Hello! I believe I told you all this already, right? I also stuck on the board the purple pin with the white letters announcing funky but chic. I'm pulled towards a trendier style and I'm not sure why. The scarf is classic and I may wear it tomorrow to meet Oliver.
Saturday I pick up the military jacket from the tailor and buy the Zig Ziglar book, Embrace the Struggle: Living Life on Life's Terms. I had ordered the book from the bookstore and it arrived last week.
Life takes off from here: I fly away, like the girl in the song "And She Was" by the Talking Heads. That was the first song I ever played on the radio.
Ladies: I bought for $5 Sephora nail polish in the tiny container, a pink polish that goes on well-highly recommended. I gave myself a manicure last night and it came out wonderful. I wear the black leather skirt, patent leather loafers, black Esprit turtleneck and the pink Oxford shirt.
Whatever will be will be. I can't know what the future holds or predict what's to happen. I don't believe in happy endings-the miraculous swoop down and eternal change. That is all I can tell you: I don't expect much to change though I will make the effort. I'm willing to take risks. So perhaps I can hold out for a miracle. It would be an accidental miracle though. An unexpected side effect.
This is all mysterious, no? Well I hold out this hope. My joy has returned like the cheerful season. On Saturday I return to see if I can pick up a scarf at the Animated Clothing booth. I saw a nice working out tank topthere as well; alas, it was $35 and I don't have that kind of money. I will see when the weekend comes how much I can justify spending. It would be super if I could buy the tank top so I might switch up to that.
The cognitive therapy has ended. It worked out well. Now is the time to be my own therapist. I understand so well that each of us has the power to create lasting change.
Will see how it goes. I wish I knew for certain how my life will turn out. The best I can do is reach out instead of going within. People rely on me to be their rock. It is not a responsibility I take lightly. So I take care of myself first: next week I return to the gym.
You see how it is:
This is what it's like when your feet touch the ground:
You are invincible.