After the shitstorm that was Friday and inviting chemo back into my life, I knew I had to find a different kind of balance. I had to say yes more if I was going to truly live. Not yes, I'll swim with sharks (yet), in that "live every day like it's your last" spirit that seems exhausting (and sure to cause hurt feelings), but yes nonetheless.
It started on Friday afternoon when I answered a phone call from a number I didn't recognize and ended up inviting a strange man into my home so I could get a free Slap Chop in exchange for a demo of an air purifier. That entire sentence sounds like someone else wrote it, but shizz, I needed to start somewhere with this opening the door business.
That one didn't turn out so well. I ended up kicking the guy out and giving him a lesson on word of mouth advertising by telling him I would be actively telling everyone I knew his company was ballz (you know I'm talking about you, Advanced Air Supply). And I didn't get the Slap Chop because I cut the demo short. Ok, so technically a yes, but with a giant dose of wtf was I thinking?
Still, it inspired me to say yes to other things this weekend.
I explored beaches I've never seen instead of just driving by for the 63,000th time.
I stopped to watch the mating rituals of birds I otherwise take for granted.
I went ghost-hunting at dusk, even though I knew it would mean nothing but nightmares for my girls. We didn't see the infamous Doris on the 7th fairway of the Victoria Golf Club, but did find the beach where her body was dumped and her husband walked into the water after murdering her. Good clean family fun.
And I took a shitload of walks with my girls instead of trying to organize everything for the coming week, trying my damnedest not to herd everyone and just look up for a change...