You know how people act in a hotel. They don’t unpack. They leave the shampoo in the little bag. They live out of a suitcase for six days because why bother, we’re leaving Sunday.
A lot of women run their whole lives like that.
The business idea stays in the suitcase. The domain never gets bought. The good olive oil stays in the cabinet, saved for some special occasion that never shows up because nobody invited it.
We’re waiting for the right time. After the kids are older. After the kitchen’s done. After things calm down.
Things don’t calm down. I’ve been waiting for things to calm down since the Clinton administration.
“After” isn’t a date. It’s a storage unit. You keep paying rent on it, and everything you put in there gets a little dustier and a little harder to look at.
Here’s the part nobody likes: there is a checkout time. They just don’t post it on the back of the door.
So take your coat off. Sit on the bed with your shoes on. Unpack the damn suitcase. You live here.
This week, name the one thing you’ve been saving for “after.” Then do one small piece of it. Buy the domain. Send the email. Tell one person out loud.
And open the olive oil. It’s not getting any better in there.