YOLO, or how I’m trying to stop waiting for my life to start

On buying plane tickets impulsively and listening to the soundtrack of your life. PLUS: my list of real-life 'must-haves.'

Hi friends:

I texted my manager the other day that I’d gone ahead and (kind of impulsively) bought a plane ticket to fly to Chicago on Tuesday for two nights.

“Good for you,” she texted back. “YOLO.”

I was just coming off another frantic week of pulling together a pretty robust data report in about three days and when the opportunity presented itself, I didn’t have to think too hard about whether I should try to make it happen. My daughter and I were Facetiming on Friday and she told me that she would be in Chicago the following week for work. She mentioned she was going to do one of those boat architecture tours, which I’ve always been hot to do, and all of a sudden I was Googling flights.

I’ll fly in early Tuesday and stay with her before heading home on Thursday afternoon. She’ll be busy working so I will mostly be on my own to wander around the city and then meet up with her for dinner each night. I haven’t been to Chicago in over 30 years — and maybe not even west of Pennsylvania in a long time. It just felt like The Universe was serving up this opportunity on a golden platter.

Of course, as soon as I pressed PURCHASE on my plane ticket I realized that I had a slew of things on my calendar next week. Work meetings. A presentation that needs to be created. Hair coloring. Therapy. And I am not going to lie — I panicked a little. Work, hair and my mental health are all super important to me. I value each.

But also, I am in a never-ending loop of all those things. You finally get through one work project or overcome some long-running emotional challenge only to learn there’s another one tapping its foot on the horizon.

And that relentless hair coloring? I’m not ready to go down that natural look path any time soon so it’s currently non-negotiable.

This is my life. But I sometimes forget that.

Like on a random Monday night when an unexpected guest pops by.

Something I am guilty of is waiting for something BIG to happen for when my life can finally begin. And I am embarrassed to say that in particular, what that would look like is that I have finally found a romantic partner or when my book is published and I somehow defy the odds and make a zillion dollars.

I know, I know. And I don’t want to equate the two because the former really is a possibility and the latter is more of a fantasy. But I am trying to be honest about my thinking.

And laying aside all the baggage in that confession that we could unpack, let’s zero in on the waiting part like I’m the Tom Hanks character who’s stuck in an airport for the whole movie. Because in reality, I am on the plane. We are all on the plane. And we are all headed to the ultimate destination.

My life has not already started but it’s reached its cruising altitude and is heading toward its descent.

When I moved from the town I’d lived in for almost 30 years into a rental not far from the beach, I treated the whole experience as if it was a two-year pause in my life. As if it was a little detour from my true existence. I would have a fun little beach life and then buy another house and resume real life. But then I took a look around at all those real-life options and signed another two-year lease.

Since then, I’ve started treating this house a little more as my own and done some little things that I’d been resisting to make it feel more like home. I bought new cushions for my porch furniture that’s been following me around to different houses since the Obama administration. And I’ve added flowers everywhere — spilling from planters flanking my front steps, climbing up the wall from a heavy cement planter on my back deck. I finally bought a new sofa bed to accommodate kids when they all come to visit and I’m trying to figure out how to hang my giant TV on the wall to add bookshelves underneath to bring books back into my living space.

I’ve also booked a bunch of trips and concerts through the fall. I am going back to Maine in July for a week alone in a cabin on the ocean. My kids and I are going to see Bruce on the beach in Asbury in September and my daughters and I are going to see Maggie Rogers the following month in Philly. We’ve got a big Penn State football game booked to kick off my youngest kid’s senior year and I will go away with my own college friends for a fall trip to Bend, Oregon.

And in between, I will probably write a lot more reports and presentations and have many sessions with my therapist and get my hair colored umpteen more times.

What am think I am trying to say is that I am trying to live — and remember that I am actually living. And that sometimes, I don’t just want my whole life to consist of work and upkeep and no fun. But I also want to honor those parts of life, too.

My dog walker always sends the cutest pics of him.

I am trying to embrace all the things that are here, right now, and line up all the things that bring me joy — travel and time spent with my kids and friends. Flowers. My bird feeder. Some baking. Lately, I’ve had the opportunity to spend late afternoons sitting on a porch with an older neighbor who’s sick and having lovely conversations about family and Broadway musicals and he’s so grateful for the company. He gave me a hug when he was leaving on Friday and thanked me for being a good friend, without even realizing that he was doing the same thing for me.

As my manager reminded me in that text, you really do only live once. I am trying to remember that. To find joy in sitting here on my porch early on a Sunday morning listening to the birds and watching the cars speed down Main Street. Maybe they are rushing to start their lives, too?

But I’ll just sit here and my new cushions, enjoying the birds relentless chirping and dive-bombing into my privet hedge. The dog quietly growling at early-morning walkers. The far-off horn of a fishing boat heading out to trawl the depths of the deep, wide ocean.

All the soundtrack of my (actual) life.

(Sunday. June 9. 8:37 a.m. ET. The honking horn at the end makes it.)

sunday shares: read + watch + cook + buy

This week I am mimicking all those “must-have” videos that I get fed on the reg in Instagram and TikTok, which are both annoying and revelatory. Here are a couple of things that really help make my Real Life a little better.

USE WITH CAUTION AND NOT WHEN YOU HAVE TO BE SOMEWHERE IN THE MORNING

KA-BOOM. I am kicking it off with what I call little sticks of magnesium dynamite that blow up your digestive track when things are a little backed up. I don’t use them all the time but I did this week and thought I’d weigh myself before and after the episode. I lost three pounds.

Talk about relentless. After raising four children and even now when it’s just me living alone, I find grocery shopping to be an absolute chore. Putting stuff in the cart, on the conveyor, back in a bag in the cart, in your car, into your house, and into your pantry where you find it three years later and throw it away. I had been eyeing these boxes at Wegman’s but resisting because they were more expensive than reusable bags but they are so worth the few extra dollars. when I am not using for food shopping, they are awesome storage in the car and keep things from tipping over. I am a fan.

Too bad my daughter can’t go back in time and edit her text to me.

Second chances. Guys, did you know that you could edit iPhone text messages? I am the sloppiest texter and this is a life saver when you inadvertently text someone something weird. Or even better, when you text something that you immediately regret you can modify that sentiment. But work quickly, after 15 minutes that message is written in digital stone. Just press the text bubble and options with jump up and one of them is “edit.”

Please enjoy my mother’s gorgous bed situation.

Tucking in. No matter the season, I like sleeping with a quilt on top of my comforter. I find it not only provides a little warmth but better, a little weight that makes me feel a little more … secure. I did the weighted blanket thing but that was a pain putting away every day and kind of the same with the quilt — which I would often kick off because it was a little too warm. My mom just upgraded some of her bedding and gave me a lovely waffle blanket that I sandwiched between my top sheet and duvet and damn, it feels glorious. Also, please look at my mother’s picture-perfect bed. It is a vision to behold.

This is my setup that is way less stylish and includes that thin blanket to keep dog goo off my duvet cover.

Get hacked. I begrudgingly finished the newest season of Hacks on HBO (MAX, whatever it’s called). I can’t with how good it is. And kind of funny that the Jean Smart character is also leaning into the YOLO philosophy. I think I am going to go back and watch the show from the very beginning, so that I can really appreciate how they have evolved all those characters.

My vision of adopting Shea McGee's vibe here did not exactly pan out where I instead look like an Amish woman. https://shorturl.at/bblIB

Asking for … ME! Anyone have any Chicago must-do’s? I am staying at a Doubletree that looks to be a quick walk to Millenium Park and the Art Institute and currently thinking I am just going to roam around and see the sights. Any lunch/dinner/coffee recommendations or spots to check out in that area would be greatly welcomed!

See you next Sunday! xoAmy