Closer to 40

Dear Readers,

Last night I had insomnia, and I had a lot of random thoughts running through my head. The thought that stuck with me until today was that I'm 30. I've known this for a while now, but I didn't realize that 30 puts me closer to 40 than 18 until last night. Two things really struck me about this: 1) I did math without having a good reason to and 2) I've never pictured myself at 40, and it's coming all to quickly.

With that in mind, today I went to Anthropologie to visit my friend Jenny. While there, she reminded me that I need a nice dress for a cocktail party I'm going to soon. Please know that 99% of my wardrobe consists of clothes I've bought at either Target or Old Navy, and 99% of those are over a year old. I buy one pair of shoes a year (just got a pair of Danskos that I'm hoping will last two years instead). I haven't paid full price for a dress since I got married. So anyway, here I am in Anthropologie, with a dressing room full of dresses that Jenny has picked out for me to try on. Knowing how cheap I am, she made sure the dresses were on sale.

But Jenny is sly.

Intermingled with the sale dresses is this yellow number that I eye with suspicion. Yellow is my favorite color, but it's never been one that I pull off well. Regardless of my initial reaction, I try the dress on. All of the sudden, I'm not a 30 year old that's closer to 40 than 18. Heck, I'm not even a mom with piles of laundry at home, or a slum lord with tenants to clean up after. I am young, I am beautiful, I am back to the size I was before husband or baby, and I look amazing in the color yellow. I walk out of my dressing room, and Jenny and our friend Alexa start yelling "Yes! Yes! This is the dress! Yes!".

It's full price.

After having a counseling session with Jenny and Alexa, and then calling Shay, the consensus was in: I had just enough Christmas money left to pay for it. And pay for it I did.

I'm in love with a dress, and I don't care who knows it!

Sincerely,
Heather