If there were a picture of a girl guide in the dictionary, which would be wikipedia because hardly anyone uses an actual dictionary anymore, then I could be it.
I am prepared.
My management of myself nowadays involves some pretty awesome organisational skills. I thrive when I am feeling organised, prepared and ready to go. I have three of the four kids with birthday parties coming up in mid-August and September. The party bags are done. The sausage rolls have been made and are in the freezer. The bottles of water and straws and napkins are in the cupboard. The cake has been ordered. I am happier than a pig in shit.
I am currently researching costume ideas for the school concert in mid-September because NOTHING freaks me out more than dress up days. Except maybe spiders and drying three lots of hair on swimming night. And the book week costume for the end of this month? Freaking me out too.
Sidebar: If anyone has tips then throw them my way. There is ANZACS for a girl – I’m thinking nurse but most of the costumes make her look like a slut instead of a 1914 war hero. The next theme is trains but I am not making a cardboard anything because that thing will be collapsed before it gets in the car. And finally a book week costume that is not fucking Elsa. I need to let it go, let it go…
So you see I am a planner, a restaurant booker, a timetabler, a midnight talker. I mean check out my laundry soaps. Does anyone else put them in nice jars? Sheesh.
I do not fly by the seat of my pants. I don’t even do change very well. I try hard to be in the moment although often, even this can be challenging.
I am so stuck in my ways that when I do have a random spout of spontaneity, the Baker and the kids look at me like I am just some odd woman that looks like someone they know but is totally not acting that way. And I’ll be all like, “Yeah, let’s just do this!” And they’ll be all like, “Who are you and what have you done with Anna?”
I guess you could call it a survival skill. A way of managing myself. My way of making sure that I can manage my head and my life without completely losing my foshizzle. It doesn’t always work for I regularly lose my foshizzle. Mostly it works though.
I have been emptying and managing my head for the past two years. Sometimes I have done it really well and other times, not so good. But even if I take one step backwards, as long as I keep taking two steps forward, then it is a path I am happy to travel. I am also loving the cliches today.
I have been thinking about it a lot lately because I have been working on my personal story for beyondblue. On Tuesday I am going to my first public speaking engagement and I could not be more proud. Or prepared.
I am ready to talk on a stage. I am ready to share my pain, my resilience and my hope. I am ready to answer questions.
I won’t get anxious about being on the stage in front 1100 teenagers. I will get anxious about the floors not being swept before I leave the house, such is the frustration of my anxiety. I may offer the kids a shiny gold coin to sweep for me.
I know I will worry about what to wear because I am vain as fuck and unlikely to change between now and Tuesday.
But mostly, I will just be proud.
Colour me yellow – with optimism + happiness.
And whatever colour proud and resilient and slightly crazily organised may be.