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This journal is fiction. The voice you’re reading is a character, not the author. |
| 031226 This journal is fiction. The voice you’re reading is a character, not the author. Hair, Nails, and Shopping/ March 12th Thursday Night Something curious happened today. I made an appointment to have my hair done tomorrow afternoon, and while I was at it I scheduled a manicure. When the receptionist asked what I wanted done, I almost laughed at myself because I realized I didn’t really have a reason. Or at least that is what I told myself. It is not a date. Paul invited me to brunch on Sunday. That is all. Two people meeting for a meal and conversation, nothing more serious than that. Still, somewhere between hanging up the phone with the salon and putting the appointment in my calendar, I realized I might be doing a little quiet preparation for my “non date.” Apparently I am primping. That realization followed me when I stopped by the mall after work. I had meant to run in for one quick thing, but I ended up staying for almost two hours. I found a soft sweater I liked and a pair of designer jeans that actually fit the way they were supposed to. I tried them on, stood there studying my reflection longer than usual, and finally decided I liked what I saw. Two hours. The surprising part is not that I bought clothes. It is that I stayed there that long at all. Shopping has always been one of those places where my nerves sometimes creep in without warning. Crowds, noise, too many choices, too many people moving around me. There have been times when the feeling edges close to panic and I leave before finishing what I came for. Today that didn’t happen. I walked through the stores. I tried things on. I took my time. At one point I realized I was simply enjoying the afternoon. That felt… freeing. On the drive home I started wondering why. Maybe talking with Paul these past few weeks has helped more than I realized. Maybe the group sessions are doing their quiet work too. There is something steady about knowing there are people I can speak to without feeling judged or pushed. Whatever the reason, something feels a little different inside me lately. A little steadier. My regular appointment with Dr. Cole is on Monday. I find myself already thinking about that conversation, about telling him the small changes I’ve been noticing. The phone calls with Paul. The shopping trip today. Even the fact that I made a salon appointment without talking myself out of it. They are small things on the surface, but they feel like signs of movement. I am not expecting to hear from Paul tonight. His calls usually come on Friday evenings. Still, I suspect when the phone rings tomorrow around eight, I will probably smile before I even answer it. That thought alone makes me realize how much has changed. |
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