Tipsy in Target

Target is already my perfect little Land of Mommy Escapism. They seduce us with their clearance sections, adorable home décor that you never knew you needed, and clothing that is sure to dazzle at the next PTO meeting. Plus, who can pass up that glorious two hour wander away from the hum drum world of sippie cups and toy explosions with nothing but the sound of a squeaky shopping cart wheel and light music in the background? It truly is a little slice of heaven.

As if Target could possibly seduce us more than they already do, with their kombucha selection and Starbucks counters, they have recently announced a location that is slated to open in the windy city by October that has applied for not one, but two liquor licenses – one to sell packaged alcohol, and one to serve beer, wine, and cocktails.

Wait. Read that again. Target wants to have a bar in their store. A bar, people. Let that sink in. So now, for those of you lucky enough to live within an hour of Chicago (or twelve hours - because really, how far is too far to drive to a Target that serves booze?), you can head to Target as per usual and come home with that perfect ceramic porcupine to fill that hole in your mantle, laundry detergent, and snacks for the kids to have after school - all while having a glass of Pinot Noir or three.

I imagine, should this catch on and roll out nationwide, that a Target shopping trip will now look like this: 

• Make a shopping list consisting of mascara, dish soap, and college ruled paper.
• Drive to Target.
• Grab a lovely glass of Pinot Noir. Yum.
• Dollar Spot. Buy $22 worth of headphones, notebooks, patterned pails and popcorn holders.
• Don't even ask what happened in the jewelry and accessories. 
• Wine. Preferably something a little cheaper than the first glass.
• Shoes. Shoes. Shoes. Shoes. Shoes.
• New Seasonal Clothing. 
• Summer Swimsuit Clearance.
• Jack Daniels Shot - necessary after that dressing room experience.
• Beer Chaser. Jack is rough.
• Home stuff.
• Something about food. 
• Wine. 
• What the hell was I supposed to get here?
• Dear Uber, Come get me. I'm done.
• Arrive home.
• Realize you've spent $347. You're totally sloshed at 2 in the afternoon. You left your car in the parking lot of Target. You lost your list somewhere. And you didn't buy anything that you were supposed to buy. 

Oh, Target. I'm not sure if I love or hate you clever little jerks. I guess I will have to have Uber give me a lift back to your store tomorrow morning so we can discuss it over some Starbucks... or a Bloody Mary. Besides, I think I need mascara.

We Are What We Repeatedly Do - The Future of This Blog

Hi. My name is Deanna. I am a textbook free spirit. I am happiest when I am creating - music, writing, crafting, baking, building... if creativity is involved, I'm in my prime. With great freedom and great creativity comes an rigid inability to be, well, rigid. A structured lifestyle has a way of stumping my creative thinking, but being 100% fluid doesn't bode well with actually accomplishing anything. It's a vicious cycle.

What I'm learning about myself is that greatness is achieved not through structure, but through repetition. We are what we repeatedly do. And by giving myself the "freedom" to be creative, I'm also giving myself permission to fail. Thus, being a free spirit is in and of itself, a conundrum, and I'm frankly a bit exhausted by the struggle that it creates for me.

I am a free spirit. I am creative. I am happiest when I'm creating. So why am I allowing my lack of ability to be anything other than fluid to keep me from achieving what makes me happy? It doesn't make any sense. Netflix and coloring books are great for the anxiety, but I'm getting nowhere in life by staying submersed in them. And worse, I'm holding myself back from achieving the happiness that I experience by being creative. The result? The past few weeks, I've spent my days restless. It's the same feeling that you get when you're starving because you haven't eaten all day, but absolutely nothing sounds appetizing. I'm starting here.

This blog just sits here, begging to be updated. I make excuses: I don't know what people will want to read. I don't have a defined topic for the blog. It's small and has been severely neglected, so it would be fruitless. Even so, I'm taking it on. I'm going to use this blog as a place to write regularly, as a way to guide my unstructured free spirit towards some structure and a way to make sure that I'm feeling accomplished and satisfied, as opposed to hiding behind laziness and claiming failure. I can't tell you what I will write about. I can't know for sure if I will be sharing random thoughts or health and fitness updates or crafty successes or minifarm madness or parenting disasters. I just know, that without fail, I'm going to make myself show up here. Regularly. And I will be putting something out there for someone or no one to read.

We are what we repeatedly do. I am going to repeatedly write. I am a writer, and I'm done letting fear of failure rule my life and send me into hiding. All systems ignite. Prepared for takeoff.