True Therapy

My roommate has this awesome habit of letting one simple fallback help get her out of any bummed-out mood. Whether she's too sleepy or too awake, too angry or too passive, or too stressed or too laid back, she has a shower. I don't think I'm one of those people. To me, shower means stress and lots to do and my routine and trying to stay on time and not letting the shower head point in that weird way that sends it over the curtain and trying to keep the curtain stuck to the sides of the shower by not touching my legs. Showers do none of the lovely things she claims. I am, however, an advocate for the after-shower therapy session.

Last year my roommate and bathroommates liked to make fun of me because I liked to get ready naked. I would blowdry, straighten, primp and preen with as little on as possible. Steph even wrote a song about it. Realistically, I was usually more clothed than any of us would ever admit, but it's fun to look back and pretend it was more scandalous than it really was.

But truthfully, I do my best de-stressing when I'm breezy and free, doing the simple tasks of getting ready while jamming out to my fave band of the morning. My favourite activity? Blowdryer dancing. Crazy, I know, but nothing does it for me like that does. I'm hooked for life.

I need more moments like these to grace my days. Even once a day is just not enough, especially when they're either interrupted or have that potential. Hopefully this Christmas break will be the perfect opportunity for just such times. I picked my courses for next semester today, and I'm taking a course by correspondence over the break in the hopes of lightening my over-the-top load for January (self-inflicted of course). I am drowning, and homework will be my lifeboat. And in May? I don't know, maybe more courses by correspondence, throwing myself headlong (and detrimentally) into ministry again, or maybe even a full out break out where I just sit around for four months and write. What else is there?