Favorite Room in the House

I love how I feel after the shower. Not just clean but restored. My favorite reset. After a work week of continuous chit chats and “quick calls”. After too many questions. After wearing pants for what could be considered an excessive amount of time ever since the pandemic rudely robbed us of special moments and tight jeans. After a day of clumsy interactions that lead to nervous sweats because why did I say that? After traffic has beaten you down to a pulp. After regular adulting. After being done with the day because the day is done with you.

Just after.

I begin with the hunt for the perfect playlist to set the tone; neon projector lamp in view for accompaniment. Phone on DND after quickly talking to my favorites from the favorites list. Cold bottle of water patiently waiting on the nightstand; usually served room temp but this bottle satisfies the thirst a hot shower especially leaves behind. My shoulders have finally made their way down from my ears. Deepest breath of the day. Neck crack. Side to side. Steam filling the bathroom comforting my lungs. Deepest breath number two. A deliberate inhale, pause, then exhale to bring me back to this room since my mind has become accustomed to running for the hills.

I feel capable. I feel like I’ve maybe got a handle on this whole life thing. Reminds me of the littered goals that I’ve let fall to the waist side again; each year a surprise yet right on schedule for the 6-month mark. Motivation reignited like it’s January 1 and time to get back to it. Plotting. The room where the real magic happens. The room clouded by fog but thoughts are as clear as day. Plotting on how if I could just take this grounded version of myself outside of my favorite room in the house I just might be unstoppable. Reminds me how to make everything else quiet and just remember what feels good to me. Humming Kanye - “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” when I remember another obstacle on my internal list.

Plotting. Looking for ways to bring this vibe with me when I go. Sometimes I find myself trying to find something else to do in here so I don’t have to leave just yet. Like hmm.. I know I have another sheet mask around here somewhere.

There’s confidence in this room. There’s joy and dance in this room; more specifically twerk. There is also a lot of stretching after the twerk because… 30’s. There are remembered prayers and affirmations being repeated in this room. There is no stress in here as long as I don’t look at the magnifying mirror on the counter reminding me of the unwelcome visitor on my cheek. Still, skin is moisturized. Products applied. Confident. Sexy. Glistening. It’s giving glazed donut.

After the shower has washed away the accumulated stress and worry of the day. Kendrick Lamar or some newly discovered artist I recently Shazam’d is playing at a respectable volume for someone who lives in an apartment building because I’m courteous like that and this room echoes.

My mind is clearer in here; my guards are down and now I’m just being. No “doing” in here. The ultimate regroup. Back to neutral. Back to the starting line.

Deep breathe again.