Blah Blah Living My Best Life
- Anika Yuzak
- Feb 29, 2024
- 1 min read
It's winter in Vancouver. I'm driving up the Lougheed Highway with a parking ticket slicked to my windshield. The days are long and dark. I dragged out my Seasonal Affective Disorder lamp and sat under it like a lizard for the recommended 20 minutes a day; it does help a little.
Everyone, myself included, is walking around in a daze. I was at Micheal's art supply store this week; every mug and magnet seemed to be from some alternate universe—blah blah, living my best life, whoo hoo, etc. Micheal's CEO is a maniac.
Even the weather agrees; a shipping container crashed into the seawall this week in English Bay. Then I saw a video clip where patio furniture was flying through downtown.
It occurs to me to get my nails painted. After all, the nail salon is familiar, and nothing is required of me there. They make room for me in the bay of customers, and the technician clips my nails short. Then, she polishes them with a clear coat of Nail Envy, which promises to strengthen weak and damaged nails.
The woman next to me has chosen a soft, muted grey pink. It looks beautiful on her, so I say so, which leads to a conversation about beauty ideals, men and dating, mothers and limits. She has deep and soulful eyes that peek above her mask, her fake eyelashes gently askew.
Maybe she senses my sadness because she lists things that sound like they've come from a fortune cookie. I politely nod back in half-hearted agreement. But, unfortunately, I'm not quite there.
