Every Day Fancy

Untitled by Mark Tennant

I have four bottles of body wash and eight perfumes in my bathroom cabinet. Not because I buy them, and not because I'm a hoarder, but because people like to gift teenage girls nice soaps and perfumes. For two and a half years, a bottle of Bath and Body Works Fresh Coconut & Cotton Shower Gel was abandoned under my bathroom sink, because the bottle was pretty and I didn't want to waste it by using it for a regular everyday shower instead of before some fancy event.

When I realized I would have to use these up before college, or else pack them and bring them with me, I decided to start using the fancy body wash for everyday showers, just because it needed to get used. At first, I was hesitant, but I slowly started to realize that it is not a waste to use something "fancy" for an average day. 

It's the same thing that happened to all the best stickers in the sticker book from when you were a kid. The glitter stickers felt so special that you saved them for the perfect time, and now they are still sitting unused in a dusty cabinet somewhere, fifteen years later. Or those dresses in your closet that you bought for "a fancy event someday," and now you've never worn them anywhere, and they are getting too small. This is the problem with waiting for the perfect occasion, the right time, or the fancy moment. The perfect moment will never come, and if it does, it will be too late. 

"Stuff your eyes with wonder. Live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds." - Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451

At first, this sounds like a pessimistic take. Here's the thing. We are all going to die someday, and we have no idea when that day will be. It could be tomorrow. It could be today. It could be twenty-five years from now, or it could be a hundred. The sun could explode next week, or the hantavirus could start a new pandemic. We cannot control the future, and we have no idea what it looks like. We cannot determine how much time we have left, try as we might. One can take that fact and use it as an excuse to be constantly gray, performing one's own funeral rites prematurely. 

Alternatively, one can use it as motivation. If today could be your last day, you may as well use the fancy body wash. You may as well wear heels to the grocery store. If today could be your last day, you may as well stop worrying about what people think of you. You may as well live today to its fullest extent, and stop doomscrolling hours of your life away. If today could be your last day, doesn't that make today the biggest gift you've ever received? Doesn't that make today worth celebrating? 

If today could be your last day, today is not an "average day." Today, and every other day, is a testimony to the outstanding power and mercy of God Almighty. It is a gift that your lungs are working, and you woke up this morning, and that gift deserves to be celebrated and treated as the opportunity it is. Today can be a special occasion, special enough to send that postcard you've been saving, open the champagne you've been holding, and do the workout you've been procrastinating. Today is a big enough special occasion to be fancy, to put on sparkly eyeshadow, to sing and dance and celebrate, and buy yourself a piece of cake. Today is a celebration of life, and one totally deserving of taking every opportunity to create joy. 

The world was not made for us to assume that we have time left. The world was made for us to live as though we didn't. For us to make as big an impact on the people around us as possible, to love loudly, and to celebrate often. The world was made for rejoicing, and we can't push off that celebration for later, when later might never come. On my deathbed, I don't want to regret the time I spent worrying and waiting. I want to remember the fact that I lived my life to its fullest. I want to remember that I rejoiced in every little moment. And I want to remember that I thought average days were special enough to use the fancy body wash.