In the months prior to the race, I also somehow managed to convince (I’m becoming quite the sales woman) my dad that he could help me with a little project.
When I lived in DC in 2005, I let it slip to my friend, Jonathan, that I had a dream to build my own bedroom furniture. Construction sites and handmade products captured my attention decades ago. Maybe because of my love for transformations? Seeing something come from nothing, whether that’s hope from despair or a building from sticks of wood, changes me.
For seven years, Jonathan asked me about my furniture every time we talked. When I was bored, lacking motivation, or unsure about my life, he always suggested building furniture. The man wouldn’t let it go. I finally admitted to him that I didn’t pursue it because 1. I didn’t know how and 2. I didn’t simply want to build furniture; I wanted to build it with someone. Yeah, it was one of those dreams – I can’t do “that” until I’m married.
At some point in the last year I realized that I’m almost thirty, I’m single, and I like both of those things. Which is kind of ironic and confusing if you’re a close friend of mine and know the stories of my countless dates and seemingly endless pursuit of a romantic relationship, but still true.
Why then, do I live my life like I need permission (or a husband) to pursue things I hope for?
Sure, I’d like to be married. I mean, sharing life with someone is certainly appealing and not only do I want to be a mom but I’d be awesome at it.
And then I discovered Ana White.
Anyway, I’ve always worked to not be a person who lives for “someday” goals, so while my dad was in town, we built this.