You guys know by now that I love all things fashion, home decor, food and drinks. You should also know by now that I love to laugh. It’s really important to me to share with you a post from time to time that doesn’t involve a single link to an item you can purchase. When I started this blog, one of my main motivations was to provide a space where you could come to take a break in your day and have a few laughs with me. I sincerely hope I have created that space for you. I get a little stressed out when I think about the direction of this blog because I don’t want to be the blogger who repeatedly says, “buy this, buy that, this is the best, no this is the best” just to make a quick buck. Because let’s face it, we’re all on a budget and very few people have the luxury of buying all the things all the time. I also realize this absolutely should not stress me out and it got me thinking about other ridiculous things that stress me out that absolutely should not. Maybe you can relate…
Writing your name and address on a luggage tag. I joke that I’m at a disadvantage because I’m a lefty but in this case, it’s totally true. My hand writing is barely legible at best so making sure I clearly write my name, address, email and phone number is enough to make my hands – and upper lip – start sweating. What if I make a mistake? There are no do-overs here and if my lost luggage ends up in Texas, I am not going to be a happy camper.
Saying your name, where you’re from and why you’re there to a group of people. I know my name. I know where I’m from. And chances are if I signed up for the event I’m attending, I damn well know why I’m there. So why do I get nervous when it’s my turn to speak? It’s not likely that I will ever forget my name or where I’m from although I am totally second guessing my motives for attending said event at that very moment.
Walking down the aisle of a small airplane. You know the small airplanes I’m talking about, especially if you are a frequent flyer out of CID. The particular planes I am referring to are the ones with just one seat on the left side of the plane and two seats on the right side of the plane. Who am I (granted inadvertently) inappropriately touching with my butt as I squeeze my rump down the child size walkway? People of Iowa, I’m sorry.
Picking out a nail color at the salon. This should not stress anyone out. Getting your nails done is a luxury and is not something everyone can afford to do. This doesn’t change the fact that it stresses me out. Yet every time I walk in the salon (even when I have a plan) something undoubtedly goes awry. They don’t have the shade I want, the color in the bottle is running out or chunky and if I am required to pick both a toenail color and fingernail color – forget it. The color combos are impossible to match perfectly (because gel on the fingernails and regular polish on the tootsies). And coordinating colors is a task so complicated, I almost leave the salon immediately. Then come the internal questions: what do I have going on in the next week or two and what will I be wearing during that time frame? Will my nail color clash with the outfit I plan to wear? Oh forget it, I don’t even want my nails done. “Have a seat in number 3, please.” Ok…
When someone is behind you as you walk up a flight of stairs. What are they looking at? Are they looking at my butt? I hope I didn’t sit on anything suspicious looking. Did I remember to lint roll my pants today? Am I walking too slow? Should I go faster? Maybe they need to get by. Can they hear how out of breath I am? Why did I take the stairs? Now would be a bad time to trip.
Putting a pop socket on your phone case. If you’ve ever done this, you know that sh*t is permanent. And for good reason. You literally hold your $1,000 phone, which dangles from that tiny piece of $15 plastic – at minimum – 50,000 times per day. You do not want that thing coming unglued. Because then you will be the one coming unglued.
Eating at a restaurant for the first time. What’s good here? What if I pick the wrong thing? Two things sound good but what should I get? What’s everyone else ordering? If I get the burger and she gets the salad, will she think I’m a pig? What am I going to be eating later? What am I going to be eating tomorrow? That sounds like a lot of food and I’m wearing a constricting waistband. Should I get the fries or salad? How are the fries here? I’m picky about fries. When they’re good, they’re good but when they’re bad… “Are you ready to order?” Come to me last, Susan.
What ridiculous things stress you out?
See ya on the next post!
-The Chic(ish) Chick
*All images sources via giphy.com.
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