There are days when I’m amazing.
I have brilliant conversation and I’m extra funny and my jeans fray just like they are supposed to and my pedicure is exactly the right color and the curl at the front of my hair that randomly passes for bangs hangs in the perfect spiral.
It is a good day to be me.
Just when I get all about myself.
Just when I mentally pat myself on my back.
Just when my red pedicured toes take one giant step forward.
And I take two steps back instead.
Yesterday I sat in the middle of this restaurant with my friend Kim.
If you haven’t met Kim yet, run over here and read about this project and this project and this project and….oh wait….this project. Words will then not be necessary. You will understand immediately why I adore her and think she’s one of the most amazing people on the planet.
We live at opposite ends of the Dallas Metroplex and every month or so we get together for lunch. It’s one of those lunches where you see each other and start talking and then you talk and talk and talk without ever taking a break and you look up and three hours have passed without you even noticing.
That’s how it was yesterday. We ate at this amazing restaurant in the Bishop Arts District with live edge wood tables and reclaimed wood chairs and white linen table cloths and beautiful succulent centerpieces.
Suffice it to say.
Extra fancy with succulents on top.
And there I sat.
Me and my amazing self.
Kim and I were laughing and talking and waving hands and lost in the world of our conversation. It was all about blogging and business and creative ideas and how to grow our brands and stand out in world of influencers.
And I was eating the yummiest cheese and bread combination on my own personal cheese breadboard with its own piece of honeycomb.
My curl was spiraling perfectly.
My toes were tapping with their shiny red polish.
My jeans had frays in all the right places.
And the best part?
I was telling a story that had Kim on the edge of her seat. It was full of mystery and mayhem and characters out of a movie and in the middle of the telling, I decided I needed props.
To accentuate the point.
Nothing gets the true point of a story across like props.
So I picked up a sugar packet for emphasis. I held it up and pointed to it and with great emphasis and great deliberation I raised my hands above my head for emphasis and circled them around and around and around.
IT WAS THE PERFECT CULMINATION OF THE PERFECT STORY.
Except I didn’t realize that the sugar packet was OPEN.
And all that sugar?
Right there in the middle of that fancy restaurant in the Bishop Arts District, with sugar swirling through the air….
….all that sugar came down on my head.
And the linen tablecloth.
And the beautiful succulent centerpiece.
All the sugar.
All the time.
(total aside: if you look at the picture with the succulents, you can still see tiny remnants of the sugar in the top left—after I thought I had wiped it all off)
See what I mean?
Some days my friend….
….I AM AMAZING.
One amazing spiral curl, red-toenail, frayed jean step forward.
Two sugar steps back.
PS This is Kim and me post-sugar. See the hair on the top of my head? It’s still sticking up from ALL THE SUGAR.