Pine needles in my underpants

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At a trip to the vet yesterday afternoon, I was waiting in the lobby when I overheard the two gals behind the desk having a conversation. The one girl, who was in her early 20s and had a clichéd rockabilly style with blunt dark bangs, heavy eyeliner, and red lipstick, announced that it was Grilled Cheese Tuesday. The other gal laughed and questioned the designation, and the first girl explained she and her boyfriend had decided that July was their Grilled Cheese Month and every Tuesday, they would have grilled cheese.

The conversation was strange because I’d mentioned earlier that day that my life was distinctly lacking grilled cheese. In fact, life got harder when I stopped eating grilled cheese on a semi-regular basis. Now, whether this has to do with becoming a grownup or it’s directly related to a declining rate of grilled cheese, I noticed the correlation and vowed to eat more grilled cheese. (You know how important self-improvement is to me and, if it takes eating grilled cheese, damn it, I’ll do it!)

The conversation also caused me realize that designating fun, special months for yourself seems like a very worthwhile thing to do. Too often, life is caught up in repetition (wake up, walk dogs, gym, work, walk dogs, sleep, repeat, repeat, repeat), but perhaps if each month were made special in some simple way, there would be more to look forward to each week. For example, if I knew that every Tuesday in July, I’d go down to Shari’s for a grilled cheese, every non-Tuesday would be spent looking forward to Tuesday. And, each Tuesday would be fun and full of grilled cheese. Then in August, I could celebrate another of my favorite things, like maybe Hula Hoop Tuesday or Tetherball Tuesday or Care Bears Movie II Tuesday.

Perhaps the others days wouldn’t be so hard.

Rockabilly chick might have been on to something life-changing. I’ll keep y’all posted.