This morning I woke up tired. I’m talking tired as in spent. I’m talking as spent as a refund check in the hands of an eager college co-ed at the Capstone. I am beat! The (leftover) red stained lips, less than cascading curls and puffy bags under my eyes compliments of resting at 12:17am and rising at 4:40am are proof of my struggle. The struggle is real.
Last night, I threw normal caution to the brisk and whisking wind and went out on a work night. I can hear you laughing as even I see how I can sound like an old lady as I write this, but humor me. With the exception of a few, not-to-be-named, issues the Lord is working out of me, I’m usually pretty calculated in my day-to-day goings on, especially at night. I appreciate a good routine like a baby appreciates a good nap. If something isn’t broken I definitely don’t try to fix it, often to a default as it leaves me stuck in what was good enough then, but could be made better now. So breaking my habit of being tucked in and squared away early on the night before the start of what is to be a busy workweek was a hard habit to break.
Anywho, about last night. I was fortunate enough to go see the Forever Charlie Tour featuring Charlie Wilson, Kem and Joe. It was amazing!!!! If you’ve been wondering where real music has been, let me just say it’s been held hostage by these three sanging (with an “a”, not an “i”), performing, crowd-captivating, get your monies worth entertainers. Baby, they left it all on the stage at the BJCC! And their debonair outfits and seasoned swag were about as smooth as their vocals. For four FULL hours they gave us their all…their absolute all! I’m still swaying at random times when I reminisce about the romantic interludes, party anthems and good, ol’, “grown folks” music they were serving up to nearly packed house. With that said, and back to the message at hand, it is very rare that I would ever think of going somewhere on a night before a day when I have to stick to my routine of rising before dawn and heading out of the house before the same. But I did. I’m so glad I did.
Like a self-professed creature of habit, I was hesitant about going to the concert because of the lateness in which I knew I would return (and I live far from Birmingham’s City Center). I was also hesitant about the cost of the tickets my generous concert companion paid. I was definitely hesitant about my outfit, as it too, was a bit of a sassy break from my old outfit’s norm. To help with my outfit trepidation I plucked a cute, black, peplum jacket from my closet to serve as my safety net, while realizing that hesitation can sometimes hold me up, and life is too short and too long to be held up when I don’t have to be. So I went to the concert, jumpsuited, peeped-toes, late-night and all. I had a BLAST with a capital B! Snapping a picture before heading to the house, that picture somehow ended up making its way to my sister’s phone. Like a little sister who often thinks she’s the wiser sister she called to offer these words of wisdom that sealed the deal for me, “You look nice. Now go and enjoy yourself. Have a lot of fun and take that jacket off as soon as you get in that building so aren’t walking around looking like ‘no’ sexy secretary!” So I did and I did.