Love, World Peace and a Seat in First Class

I’m a woman of simple needs. Not buying it? Fine. I’m a woman of mostly simple needs and a few specific splurges. Three to be exact. Three things that make me feel like I occasionally put me first. And when I’m being truly selfish, I believe I owe myself these small splurges. (Here’s where I need you to nod in solidarity and understanding, Thank you.)

And my needs are simple. Because I have zero patients for shopping, I’m not a cloths horse. In truth, I’m still wearing items I bought decades ago. Granted, most of these items are not allowed out of the house. (Mr. Parker’s strong suggestion.) 

Also, since COVID, I’m less interested in dining out. Often, sitting in a restaurant, waiting for a server can make me feel trapped. As if I’m being forced to sit at my parent’s table until I’ve finished my vegetables. Something that never actually happened in my house because my mother never served vegetables. I didn’t try broccoli until I was twenty-five. Fortunately, I’m married to one of the best cooks I know so eating at home is far from a hardship. 

Here are the three things that (help) keep me happy. 

1. Someone to do my hair
2. Someone to clean my house
3. A first-class seat on an airplane

Shall we break it down? (If you answered, no, well, I guess we’re done.) First up: hair. Having a head full of curls, my hair is pretty forgiving. Assuming the stylist didn’t just lop off one side before passing out, a bad cut is relatively easy to hide. I could probably even do it myself.

Side Note: I cut my mother’s hair for the last two years of her life. She was too unstable to go to a salon but always cared about being presentable. She’d rocked a wedge haircut for decades, so I YouTubed (Yes, it’s a verb now) “Wedge Hair Cut, How To.” After five views of a man giving an older woman a competent wedge, I put on music, sprayed a bit of lavender into the air, and opened my salon to its one and only customer. It was the most fulfilling job I ever had.

Back to my own haircut joy. The real reason I love having someone do my hair is, it’s one of the only parts of my life where I’m away from work, and it’s 100% about relaxing. I love it all. From the easy conversation with someone who has become a friend (Yes Holly, I’m talking about you), to giving myself permission to ignore my phone, to having someone wash my hair. And the joy of that last part cannot be overstated. Having someone massage your scalp as hot water flows over your head is one of the best things ever. It’s right up there with great sex and a good poop. (You know you were thinking it.)

On to someone to clean my house. Knowing my home is clean is key to being able to work. Key. It’s too easy to be distracted thinking about that thing in the corner. What is that? Hair? Dust? Hair with dust? I can’t do it. It’s like The Tell Tale Heart calling for my attention, stopping all work from happening. 

Confession: I’m a shit cleaner. I should be great. My mother kept our house so clean that once I was giving guests the tour (something we did) and they asked why we had no shower door. Oh, there was a door, but the glass was so clean it appeared to not exist. When I sked my grandmother what she didn’t like about getting older she answered, “I can’t clean like I used to. But the clean genes were not passed down, so I like having a pro do it. 

Before you go thinking, Wow, I was going to guess she wants a house cleaner because she just doesn’t want to do it.Stop right there. You’re right. In addition to sucking at it, I don’t want to do it. Well, I didn’t. After the last cleaner didn’t work out (constant drama) I chose to do it myself. I’d rather try to channel my grandmother’s skill then deal with a new round of stories from someone who always has a medical, mother, mechanical, or metaphysical issue. Me doing it is just faster. (Faster? Oh, maybe that’s why I suck.)

Last but by no means least is a first-class seat on a plain. Does it really matter? Yes. The TSA pre-check, the Delta lounge…But there’s something about being treated better when you travel that helps you arrive more like a person. Something about a wider seat, leg room, a cocktail before take-off, the ability to sleep, a meal with utensils not made from petroleum products. Then there’s the bouncy conversation with your flight attendant about the bad behavior of others. (Certainly not me.) All those things plus, it’s what I want. Period.

So my question is, what are your three splurges? Not, must haves. But given the choice, you’d sacrifice something else to make these things happen.  No judgement. I just want to know what I’m missing.