But for some, optimism rears it’s ugly head as at no other time-at least initially.
One could designate an annual time or it can be postponed until it becomes obvious that something, anything, must be done. The inevitability of it must be admitted to and the challenge accepted and acted upon before disaster occurs.
If I were to mention the potential dates many would guess hurricane or tornado season. The responsible among us sense our focus turn toward having supplies on hand and you would be partially correct.
It is advisable to be as well supplied as one possibly can be given the current circumstances and conditions.
However, this is not a season NOAA cares a whit about. While a tempest may ensue as a result of the event it will not be a “named” storm as we are used to hearing about. If anything, the storm may actually have your name or my name on it. How weird is that, right?
It begins innocently enough.
The atmospheric changes begin as one attempts to clothe oneself in appropriate attire and realizes the lycra and spandex
is beginning to fail has failed.
Miserably. The elastic has outlived its usefulness. The materials are eroding due to conditions such as sun, water, salt and (most likely) decades of use. I am speaking from experience here. It is time to confess.
Bathing Suit Shopping Season is once again upon us. BSSS.
In my own little world bathing suit shopping should have happened years ago. Even typing the words bring a heightened sense of fear and despair. I have never been able to decide if it is something one should prepare for before by setting aside a day to hit all retail establishments south of the Mason Dixon line in hopes of locating the holy grail of lycra designed with me in mind.
Does one randomly put a day on the calendar 3 months in advance and prepare oneself mentally for the shopping trip? Or, as what happened to me yesterday, is one blindsided by the vast array of possibilities and duped into thinking this will be a quick, easy selection?
I took a few suits into the dressing room without an impending sense of doom.
After donning the first suit I looked in the mirror.
Why in the world did I think this was going to turn out well?
The legs, crafted by zumba, walking and bike rides, don’t look too bad.
But the rest? Yikes.
Maybe they should start making swim attire out of duck tape to keep stuff somewhat in place.
Since I had not prepared for this excursion I should have returned the items to the attendant, found my shopping cart, paid for my stuff and bid a hasty retreat from the place causing me such angst.
But, OH NO! Always one to think there can be a satisfactory solution to a difficult assignment I gather a few more items and head back toward the dressing room.
When I arrived at the dressing room with yet another stack of possibilities I said to the sales person, “Yes, I am the eternal optimist.” (The extrovert, who talks to almost everyone, does make small talk with the fitting room person- it’s just me).
Her reply? “Something will work.”
As I (not so gently) closed and SECURELY locked the door behind me I muttered this under my breath. “Yes. More exercise and less eating.”
The apparent ending to this tale involves the part about me heading to my beach outing tomorrow in my old lycra-spandex-unelastic offering covered with a tank top and shorts.
But, being the chatty eternal optimist-realist, I must add a few more thoughts.
I’m grateful for the health to go bathing suit (or any kind of) shopping.
Happy also to realize that in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter.
Also I thought about the fact that most people, especially the women I know, find bathing suit shopping frustrating because we have the misconception that “everyone else” looks better in a bathing suit. A quick trip to our local beach should assure most of us that many of the models for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition live somewhere else.
Which, of course, leads to another thought.
Why do we care?
Can’t we just go to the beach or the pool with the express purpose of having fun? Enjoy the day, the people, the scenery?
Being in the full throes of BSSS I will go forth boldly, without too much fear or disappointment. I shall go forth optimistically, knowing that somewhere out there is a lycra-spandex-elastic creation just for me. And if things fall apart before I find it there is always duck tape. I hear it even comes in a variety of colors and patterns now.