Tuesday, January 24, 2012

handful of hearts, gloves from yastikizi

About once a month (in a cyclical pattern) I have a day like this…

On days like this I’m sure I’m going to die of cancer. Probably tomorrow. My boobs ache and I’m sure that’s a sign of impending doom. I should probably participate in the Pink Cancer Walk now, to help fund the research to save my life.

But when I Google the Pink Cancer Walk I realize it costs money, and besides I’d need new shoes - and a better sports bra, you know for the sore boobs. And I remember that we have no money and probably never will. I probably will have to work until I’m 100, unless I don’t do the Pink Cancer Walk, and never buy new shoes, or a house, or an alpaca.

I should start biking to work so we never need a second car, besides the 30 miles would help me lose weight, and maybe the cancer.

On days like this I think a long warm bath would be nice, but then I’d feel guilty for coming home from work and leaving the children yet again. I spend too much time away. And I’ll never stop working, not ever, cause of the money and the health insurance (for the cancer).

Instead of a bath maybe I’ll have a donut, or a frappucino, or a donut dunked in a frappucino.

But then I worry about what my eating choices are teaching my daughters. Will they turn to high calorie, chocolate-laden frappucinos someday instead of dealing with their feelings? Should I demonstrate discipline and do some yoga or pray all evening so they can see there are better ways to deal with bad days than drowning yourself in overpriced coffee?

On days like this I want to cuss like a dirty sailor, like Sharon Osborn or that Andrew Dice guy who used to be on Comedy Central late at night when I was in college. I want to express everything with language that would turn my mother’s hair gray… grayer. Dang I love my mom, I’m so glad she can take a joke. I hope my kids poke fun at me someday to spare some other poor soul their brilliant revelry.

I bet I look so disinterested in every meeting, why can’t I have a jovial perpetually happy looking face?

And so on, and so forth…


Matt and Jodi said...

I really miss you and I have had the same kind of week...
Can't wait until you are back and we can have coffee (overpriced).

Matt and Jen said...

Love it. Perfectly said and everyone can relate whether they want to admit it or not.