Sunday, June 09, 2013
I realized lately that I have a lot of wishes concerning myself. I wish I was more physically fit. I wish I fixed my hair to make it look nice and not just stick it in a ponytail every day. I wish I had clothes in my closet I wanted to wear, clothes that are classy and stylish. Not the jeans and t-shirts I so often fall back on because of how I feel about my body. I wish I could cook like a daughter of Italy, and have wine and tomato sauces as pantry staples. I wish I took time to do more crafty things and become a Pintrest princess with an adorable wreath made out of toilet paper or something on my front door. I wish I was a well known novelist with at least one best seller on the shelves of bookstores nation wide. I wish, I wish, I wish. And then I realized something else. Why just wish it? I'm working on my weight and health issues. I've already lost four pounds, and my husband is encouraging and suppporting me, as well as working right along side me. We're planning on starting walking together in the afternoons at the local park when he gets off work. If I can work hard and change that about myself, why can't I change the rest of me to what I wish, too? Hair is easy to fix once you get the hang of it. I can slowly replace my wardrobe with clothes I'd rather wear. A cooking class would be fun, especially if I could get my husband or a friend in on it. Crafts are something I've never had a problem doing, I just need to take the time for it. The novel might be a bit tricky, but I've got plenty of ideas I could work on. I forget sometimes, especially recently, that I'm only 25. I can still wrestle my life in the direction I want it to go. So I will. And in another 25 years, I won't be looking back with I wishes.