Last night as I found myself going through my "Sunday night ritual" I realized, this ritual is what I hate most about Sundays. This is primarily because the Sunday night ritual is all about Monday morning and being prepared for the coming work week - this means the weekend is over and I gotta wait 5 days for the next one. Hence my obvious reason for not enjoying the Sunday night ritual - Monday is upon us all.
These are really stupid little rituals. Things like making sure the kitchen is picked up, on a Saturday night I can look at a sink full of dishes and say, "Oh I'll do those tomorrow morning". I make sure the coffee pot is ready to go with the auto setting on so that the full pot of coffee is awaiting my slow crawl down the stairs the following morning (speaking of, I honestly am amazed that 1. I have not fallen down the stairs getting that first cup of coffee and 2. that I haven't permanently moved the coffee pot upstairs to rid myself of the stairs before caffeine - honestly if I had a full bathroom counter, it would probably be up there, no joke). Around 7:30 I realized that I needed to shower soon if I was going to let my hair dry before going to bed. Night time showers are part of a "winter ritual" that I enjoy because it means that I get to sleep in an extra hour in the mornings and I always feel snuggly and relaxed for bed after an evening shower. Monday-Thursday these showers go as quickly as possible so that I can either make dinner, clean up the mess from dinner or still have some enjoyable evening time left after the shower. On Sunday's it sorta becomes "grooming night". Nothing really hi-tech, but last night as I was pouting about the weekend being over, I just wanted to get my shower over and done with. I looked in the mirror and realized that my eyebrows were outta control - I signed in annoyance because I hate plucking them. I realized though after a relaxing weekend around the apt. in sweats that involved, cleaning, organizing, laundry and general relaxation to the tune of season 1 of West Wing that if I showed up to work saying I did nothing all weekend, looking a hot mess (due to unruly eyebrows), I would find myself embarrassed by this. So I plucked, I took my shower, shaved and put the good cream on my face. This grooming usually is more advanced in terms of a face mask, painting my toes/finger nails, etc. but last night as I plucked I came to the realization of these Sunday night rituals and became so depressed by this fact that I had no desire.
It's funny how as my 25th birthday is quickly approaching (1 month away tomorrow) I find myself more and more obsessed with how I'm going to look for turning 25. Things like weight, my complexion and hair (cut/color) have been so important that I don't enjoy them being so important to me. I was looking through old pictures last night as part of my weekend organization project and I saw pictures from 4 years ago when Jon and I first started dating, my 21st birthday, our first year in DC and I feel that I look old now - I don't enjoy that, I want to look as I did then. I realized around 2 years ago as Jon turned 25 and that meant I soon would as well that I would not going to age well. I know that age is just a number, but when the number has bags under her eyes and awful hair, I have a problem with it. I am consumed with doing all that I can to look amazing by Dec. 18th.......maybe I should do before and after shots, these are either going to make me really happy or really sad.
These are really stupid little rituals. Things like making sure the kitchen is picked up, on a Saturday night I can look at a sink full of dishes and say, "Oh I'll do those tomorrow morning". I make sure the coffee pot is ready to go with the auto setting on so that the full pot of coffee is awaiting my slow crawl down the stairs the following morning (speaking of, I honestly am amazed that 1. I have not fallen down the stairs getting that first cup of coffee and 2. that I haven't permanently moved the coffee pot upstairs to rid myself of the stairs before caffeine - honestly if I had a full bathroom counter, it would probably be up there, no joke). Around 7:30 I realized that I needed to shower soon if I was going to let my hair dry before going to bed. Night time showers are part of a "winter ritual" that I enjoy because it means that I get to sleep in an extra hour in the mornings and I always feel snuggly and relaxed for bed after an evening shower. Monday-Thursday these showers go as quickly as possible so that I can either make dinner, clean up the mess from dinner or still have some enjoyable evening time left after the shower. On Sunday's it sorta becomes "grooming night". Nothing really hi-tech, but last night as I was pouting about the weekend being over, I just wanted to get my shower over and done with. I looked in the mirror and realized that my eyebrows were outta control - I signed in annoyance because I hate plucking them. I realized though after a relaxing weekend around the apt. in sweats that involved, cleaning, organizing, laundry and general relaxation to the tune of season 1 of West Wing that if I showed up to work saying I did nothing all weekend, looking a hot mess (due to unruly eyebrows), I would find myself embarrassed by this. So I plucked, I took my shower, shaved and put the good cream on my face. This grooming usually is more advanced in terms of a face mask, painting my toes/finger nails, etc. but last night as I plucked I came to the realization of these Sunday night rituals and became so depressed by this fact that I had no desire.
It's funny how as my 25th birthday is quickly approaching (1 month away tomorrow) I find myself more and more obsessed with how I'm going to look for turning 25. Things like weight, my complexion and hair (cut/color) have been so important that I don't enjoy them being so important to me. I was looking through old pictures last night as part of my weekend organization project and I saw pictures from 4 years ago when Jon and I first started dating, my 21st birthday, our first year in DC and I feel that I look old now - I don't enjoy that, I want to look as I did then. I realized around 2 years ago as Jon turned 25 and that meant I soon would as well that I would not going to age well. I know that age is just a number, but when the number has bags under her eyes and awful hair, I have a problem with it. I am consumed with doing all that I can to look amazing by Dec. 18th.......maybe I should do before and after shots, these are either going to make me really happy or really sad.
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