After two months of lame procrastination about firing this year's dance floor rental guy (I drafted a harsh letter, then tamed it down, then had friends read and edit it, then didn't send it), he finally called today and asked if I could make a decision about next year by January so he wouldn't have to store the floor - he said he planned on recycling it. I told him yes, I had decided not to use it again. He said ok. We said goodbye. That was it. In the end as much as I wanted to stick it to him for how much this floor was a disaster (people are still talking about it on Facebook...ughhhh) and even more so for that awful confrontation we had, I think this way is really best. He knows he screwed up. He took the financial hit way worse than I did. I'm sure he's totally embarrassed by the whole thing. I'm going to have to see him every time I sing or go out dancing from now on. So it's best to just let the petty stuff go and keep it friendly. I'm a true believer that less is more when it comes to stuff like this, so it's probably a good thing I chickened out and didn't send the letter.
I once wrote a very angry, spiteful letter to my mother and never sent it, too, and boy am I glad I didn't!
The holiday season is upon us and I'm kind of getting into it. I am pinning new candy recipes and planning on upping my game with actual gift boxes and candy molds. I'm also psyched to decorate this house non-pregnant - no more fears of tripping/falling/over-exerting myself. It is truly a pleasure to be once again able to not drink enough water, not eat enough protein, forget to take a vitamin, eat sugar and carbs, and not worry about it affecting a little helpless being in your belly. Of course I'm not really off the clock until I stop breastfeeding, but for now I relish the freedom.