It’s a holiday, have a martini
It’s not really the kind of holiday that calls for a martini. But it’s Monday. And I already want a drink.
I’m the type that likes to plan. I pick out my outfit, underwear included, the night before. I pour my bowl of cereal, sans the milk, the night before. I prepare my coffee grinds, and select a mug, the night before. You get the idea. Spontaneity has never been my best quality.
And so, you can imagine I typically turn down late-night bar hopping on a Monday night. Sure, I’ll still take that martini. But you better believe I’m enjoying it from my couch.
My 84-year-old grandmother, on the other hand, will have that martini in Vegas.
That’s where she’ll be tomorrow. On a Tuesday. In Vegas. At age 84.
We chatted over a non-alcoholic beverage (think chamomile tea) yesterday. Of course, she was dripping in her most exquisite jewels and custom-tailored clothes— to which I said, “you look so beautiful today, for just a casual Sunday at home.”
In her thick middle eastern accent, she replied, “I don’t want all of these nice things to just sit in my closet. At my age, everyday is a holiday.”
It was one of those “aha!” moments. Too often, we only wear our prettiest jewels to special parties. Nicely tailored suits collect dust in men’s closets. Women’s lingerie sits in the back of the drawer until Valentine’s Day. Flowers are only delivered on marked occasions. Cards are only exchanged when there’s a specific note to send. It seems like we’re always waiting to feel special, or look special, or do something special for someone else.
Instead, do it today. And tomorrow. And the next day. Get out those jewels, my friends, and enjoy a martini. Because it’s a Monday. And it’s a holiday. ∗