SquarePeg Books

Well, at the grand old age of almost 50, I would have to say:

“the ability to not give a fuck.”

It starts small, and it isn’t usually a conscious decision. You don’t just wake up one morning and notice a new ad on your feed or whatever advertising a “how to stop caring about stupid shit” course for $4.99 a month, and decide today’s the day you’re going to dedicate yourself to a new way of thinking.

No, no.

It’s little things that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, those little habits you have for no real reason, that take up time, but to your mind don’t serve a real purpose if you stop and think about it.

For me, it started with socks. No one really looked at my socks. No one commented on my socks. I have some really cool socks, but no one gives a damn except me.

So does it really matter if my socks match each other, and/or the outfit I’m wearing?

Not really.

I stopped matching my socks. I don’t wear a cotton anklet sock on the right and a knee high wool sock on the left, but I don’t match them by color and pattern anymore. I haven’t for something more than 12 years.

Then it moved to sneakers. I have big feet that aren’t in the best condition, meaning I can’t wear cheap shoes,  and fashionable shoes aren’t the easiest to acquire, either. When I do find a pair of shoes I like, I typically buy 2 pairs, that way, when my first pair wears out, I know I have to start shopping for new shoes while I wear my second pair.

People notice shoes, but only if they’re notable: bright colors, granny shoes, crusty-nasties on full display in bedazzled flip-flops, well-worn work boots that are crying out to be given a decent burial.

People don’t notice ordinary sneakers, or hiking boots, or even dress casual heels.

When I started buying two pairs of the same sneakers in different colors and mixing them up, my son had a fit. As did a lot of people, actually. A number of strangers have come up to me to express their concerns about my shoes not matching and how I need to fix that.

I recently stopped matching my earrings.

I sew goofy, snarky patches onto my winter coat, wearing it brazenly in cool weather, disturbing straight-laced folks and bringing a smile to the faces of the Gen-Z non-conformists shopping for groceries.

Now I just need to transfer that “fuck it” attitude to other aspects of my life. Like actually publishing my work.