THE PURGE: I’ve Got a Serious Problem

Working at Whole Foods in the Supplement/Body Care section has its perks.  I work with some really rad people who have become my closest friends.  I have learned an amazing amount of information about natural and holistic skin care.  If you have a problem with yeast infections, digestion, weight problems, acne, ED, lactation insufficiencies, hormonal imbalances, energy inadequacy, and a plethora of other issues, I can tell you what natural supplements  or products (if any, I mean come on, there’s no miracle supplement that’s going to make your diabetes or 100 extra pounds of fat magically disappear) may be beneficial for you. 

The golden coin of my employment with Whole Foods is FREE PRODUCTS.  Yes, we get free products.  One of Whole Foods’ Core Values is “We Create Ongoing Win-Win Partnerships with our Suppliers.”  This means representatives and vendors are constantly in contact with us, promoting new products, sending team member samples for our feedback and support in hopes that we will sell their merchandise.  SO, this is a wonderful, amazing, positive benefit, BUT IT HAS ALSO CAUSED ME TO BECOME A SERIOUS FUCKING HOARDER. 

 

*This was the state of my product cabinet this morning.  You can’t see how deep it goes, but it’s deep, man.  Please disregard my “cancer deodorant.”  That’s not kosher with Whole Foods.  But that natural shit will never work for a girl living in this steam room of Mississippi.  Oh also, I keep bobby pins in an I Love Lucy mug.  She’s so great 🙂

At what point does one come to terms with the fact that they have a problem?  I have acquired about 70% of this stuff for free from work, but like, who needs 5 bottles of hair serum or 4 hair gels or 10 bars of soap or 7 face creams when you have oily skin.  This is the shit that’s in this cabinet.  Today I woke with a plan.  PURGE THIS SHIT.  Minimalist goals.  So I took all this junk out of the cabinet and organized it by function on my counter.  I’m embarrassed. 

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The truly sad part is that I did this same project about 3 months ago.  It was much worse, but I continue to aquire this junk at lightning speed. 

I recently bought a line of skin care that I am going to dedicate myself to, not give up on, and NOT RUIN by using other products along with it.  That line is Dr. Hauschka.  Expensive, I know, but I splurged, (and they have really great deals for this line on Amazon FYI) because I am constantly on the search for the perfect facial care and continually getting let down.  After reading a slew of reviews, blogs, and articles about Dr. Hauschka, I think this is the missing link I’ve been searching for.  This will be a post soon 🙂

Two donation bags for a friend and my Mama later, I have completely cleaned out that ridiculous cabinet.  I can now focus my attention on the products I really fucking use, and avoid the stress and headache of trying to pull shit out of there without an avalanche of body lotions.

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Bloody Hell, I’ve Been Thinking Again…

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I’m tired.  A 10 day stretch at work doesn’t do much for the wellness of my mental clarity.  I need breaks, bubble baths, couch time, and book life for a sort of reboot into sanity every now and then.  Otherwise I tend to stray away into a loopy, laughy, contemplative behavior that usually does nothing but make sleep more difficult and soundness nonexistent.  So my schedule has been crazy, and therefore my mind has started a loop of “what-if’s” and “how come’s” and planning and worrying and overthinking and struggling for no good reason.  It’s what I do.  I really should sleep. 

However, I cannot get these thoughts to bail on my brain right now.  So, I share. 

 

My past has molded me into the delicate lady I’ve become.  The past was bad.  If you’ve read some of my other posts, you know that alcoholism laced my 20’s and I’ve maintained clean and soberness for nearly 4 years. 

Continue reading “Bloody Hell, I’ve Been Thinking Again…”

Faults in Sobriety: I’m Still Way Crazy

Sobriety is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me in this life.  I know that.  I own that.  I spread the good news.  I share my story.  If it weren’t for treatment, AA, sober allies, etc. I would surely be dead.  My drug/alcohol abuse caused serious strain on my family, my health, my ability to function in society, my confidence, my motivation, my driving record, the list goes on and on.  I will be 4 years sober in August, and it has taken that length of time to establish myself on the “right” track.  It’s been a long road, but every moment that I have remained sober has been a fucking cake walk compared to where I came from.  So in life, after having been hung out to dry by my alcoholism, all other issues are unparalleled to the straight up shit I’ve lived through.

This is not to say, however, that other problems aren’t there.

Sobriety has pretty much been a huge highlighter that’s outlined all the shit I covered up for all my years of drinking.  Those character defects, as AA describes, are well engrained in my bones.  That shit is HARD to shake, man.  Change is fucking crazy difficult.

Continue reading “Faults in Sobriety: I’m Still Way Crazy”

I Cook For Men, Not for Me

Here’s the thing.  I don’t cook for myself.  When you’re single and live alone, a girl will find any excuse to nix cooking off the to-do list.  My excuse is I’m lazy, I love yogurt and granola and cereal and fruit with a passion (Yes, this is how I eat.  It’s embarrassing), and I’d rather be doing other things besides cleaning the fucking kitchen (I will say here that I LOVE cleaning things–I find it therapeutic–but dishes annoy me to no end.  And how does the kitchen get so messy even when you don’t go in there?!  I’ll never understand)

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Men bring something out in a woman.  We southern women turn into this Nurture Goddess at the first sign of any masculine attention.  It’s a phenomenon, really.  Or it’s just pheromones/hormones/general lack of sexual activity playing mind/body control.  That’s probably it.  Anyhow, this past weekend I was lucky enough to have a visitor spend a few days with me during my birthday.  The type of visitor that you want to feed well and impress with your Betty Crocker skillz and Good Housekeeping technique.  A male visitor–insert “hubba hubba’s” and cheesy hearts and eggplant emojis*  So I met this guy online.  What better way to spend the first weekend of my 30’s than with a man I’ve never met in my mediocre apartment with two cats, multiple Spotify playlists, and….. other things?!?!?!?!?  I don’t know if there is a better way, honestly.  YOLO.  Listen, ANY man who is willing to travel thousands of miles to spend time with you is deserving of a nice fucking breakfast. “Don’t screw this meal up, Bailey.  You know how your eggs usually turn out.  You’ve GOT this.”  :-/ So anyway, preceding his arrival I made an elaborate (for me) breakfast menu for myself and this special guest. 

 

Continue reading “I Cook For Men, Not for Me”

Year 30: We Can Do This

I have turned 30.  The newness of life slowly wearing away and leaving smears of lethargy, achy bones, repetition, and a general apathetic disposition in its place.  At least more so than in my past.  I’ve always been a bubbly, excited about nothing, obnoxious laugher who can charm the pants off most any man (or woman–yes that happened, BUT a story for another day) and live easy without plan or worry or fear for tomorrow.  When I get gifts for birthdays or Christmas, I get so excited I cry.  Again, I’m a feeler.  So this turn of events into disinterested, unenthused funk makes me confused.  This isn’t me.  How did I get here?

(No one explains the absurdity of life better than the one and only David Byrne, man) Continue reading “Year 30: We Can Do This”

For Starters

 

When I was a little girl, my Mama always taught me that life could unfold however I dreamed.  I could write, I could act, I could do comedy or become a fucking surgeon if I wanted.  Early on I knew that life’s potential was a garden that needed to be nurtured and fed, and eventually beautiful buds of success would appear in bright colors.  I would get multiple degrees from prestigious universities and marry a rich man, drive a Volvo, and have glowing golden-haired children with pink bows in their hair. I would exercise for fun (because that’s what rich, successful people do, right?), have a constant tan and perfect skin, and be able to travel the world with the never ending prosperity and high cotton-ness I would experience.   Little did I know in those younger years how life would ultimately tar and feather my ass and drag me through 4 states until I was left broke and alone with a drinking problem and no direction whatsoever.  Funny story, huh? Continue reading “For Starters”

Begin to Hope

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Today I was flipping through Facebook reading all the same shit that’s there every day.  I came across an article commemorating the 10 year anniversary of Regina Spektor’s release of the album Begin to Hope.  I was flooded with memories of the time in my life when Regina changed everything for me.  Continue reading “Begin to Hope”