The Woman Strong

P.S. Perpetual Chance of Extra

In Hormonal Power, I suggested that I may be a little Extra a few days a month. But I was recently two days post my monthly surplus of hormones and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t still full throttle. I didn’t realize it when I exited the left side of the bed in the morning. Instead, I got a whiff of my mood on the drive to drop my daughter off at school. The moment I rolled down my car passenger window to propel my Yeti because my espresso “smelled like fish”…that was when I realized that I may be a little Extra on the whole.

I am relieved to report that I rolled down my own window instead and simply poured out my caffeinated lake water while waiting at a stop sign. Later in the day, though, I broke down and cried at work, which followed by my boss asking me what was up. This episode was then followed by me crying at home because I vented to my boss about what was up at work.

I’ve heard it said that to every ying, there is a yang; every action has an equal and opposite reaction. So, in an effort to explain my Extraness with science, I think I felt so very bad because there is extreme good just waiting for me to receive it. In other words, living out the rat race day in and day out is so painful because it is an exact contrast to what my soul craves and knows is achievable.

Being a pure-bred spaghetti head, thoughts of all the different ways I would prefer to spend my days tend to circulate during my hour alone in the car every weekday. Not an exhaustive list by any means, but some of my brain wave action during that time includes:

  • Waking to an alarm clock feels wrong deep down in my core. It’s just not natural. (See Massages & Cocktails…)
  • I want to spend more time with my family and my dog.
  • I wish I could paint more, write more, travel more, read more, experiment more with cooking and tasting new concoctions, enjoy more massages and make more love.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened on this recent Extra day that made it suck any more or less than usual. I noticed though, instead of warm fuzzies when contemplating my desires and dreams, I felt empty & grumpy because of their current absence. The next day was better, for me at least. When I asked one of my co-workers about his day, he said it had been a bad one but he already knew tomorrow would be better. His comment struck me because it was 2:00 pm. I thought to myself, if he could already decide that tomorrow was going to be better, why couldn’t he just resolve to make the 2nd half of this day better. This, of course, forced my realization that I could have made the same decision at any given time during the day prior.

I find it ironic that thinking is so effortless, yet guiding thinking can be exhausting. I wrote the post, Present Focus, in December, publicly committing to efforts towards not looking back. Not even a season later, I still catch my mind traveling the habitual path of mulling over past grievances. Not quite as frequently, my thoughts also take a turn into worrying over future concerns. I know I’m not alone in this, either. My 13 year old was mad at me just this week for my plans 6 years down the road. (Si’, his precious Extra self was angry about TacOcaT.)

I dedicated myself to present appreciation, not complacency, but I have found the need to add a post script to my plan. When my mind travels down mad or sappy lane, my goal is to stop and make the choice to turn attention to past joyful memories instead. When my pasta brain zooms forward to what might go wrong or what is currently f’d up, I aim to look around to find something (anything) to be grateful about in the moment at hand. When progressively focusing on my desires pisses me off, I will do my best to not think at all. On days I stumble off of my P.S. track, I will don my “Normal is Boring” shirt and forge forward with interesting (and admittedly sometimes borderline scary) intensity until I have the mental strength to focus myself right back onto the road of satisfaction.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *