I Missed the Girl I Once Had Time to Be


Jason Isbell has an extraordinary gift for getting to the heart of a story:

"Time flies when you're makin' babies,

Do you miss your little black Mercedes,

Do you miss the girl you once had time to be?"

When I first heard him sing that line from Molotov I instantly burst into tears. Because Oh. My. God. I do miss the girl I once I had time to be. That Girl who was sassy and creative and fun and sometimes funny. That Girl that was a twitchy, anxious, bundle of unrealized potential. She's still in there. At least, I hope she's still in there.

It's time to find out. Yesterday, March 28, 2019, was my last day of being gainfully employed. My superhero husband has created a world for us that means I once again have time and space to be Her. To be an artist and a blogger. To be a party-throwing, sports-car-driving, potty-mouthed, opinionated fuckabout with an outlandish jewelry collection that would be envied by Sir Elton John and Iris Apfel should they ever have the good fortune to see it. To be Xan-fucking-Rubey and show up for this life as my true self. Hopefully without being a completely narcissistic asshole.

I know the chance to be That Girl again is an extraordinary privilege that very few people get. Don't let me fuck it up. Hold my feet to the fire and make me accountable to Her. Help me realize Her potential. I promise to try to be entertaining along the way.

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