confessions on st.patrick’s eve

confession: because it is st.patrick’s eve, because i’m going to a st.patrick’s party tonight, and because i like to dress appropriately for all occasions, i’ve searched my closet for green clothes. i have none. i had some and then i got rid of them when i was clearing my closets of non-necessities. green clothing is non-essential 364 days of the year. during the clearing purge, lingerie was also deemed non-essential, since i buy new lingerie for every occasion. i have nothing green to wear. i have no lingerie. i feel naked in my non-green unlacy closets.

confession: i’ve been craving bologna for almost a year but hadn’t bought any because bologna looks, feels, and sounds disgusting when i’m holding it in my hand at the grocery store. today, because wizard was at the grocery store with me and i didn’t have to hold the bologna (or stand in line to pay for it) once i handed it to him, i came home with 98% fat-free oscar mayer bologna. i’ve eaten three slices and each slice tastes increasingly more disgusting in a familiar kid-at-heart i’m-loving-it way. 

confession: he has been acting much more enlightened than i have the past three weeks. he has raised his voice only once. i’ve raised my voice three times. the last time i yelled, “i’m sick of looking at your big fat face,” pushed past him, and slammed the door as i ran out of the house. gawd, sometimes i act like such a brat. of course, i apologized later that day. yes, we laughed about it. but on the inside, my hyper-shaming guilt-mongering self-critic won’t forgive me. i’m sorry that i yelled at him. i’m also sorry that i won’t forgive myself. 

confession: i love too many men who drive motorcycles. i know first-hand how dangerous motorcycle riding is (no matter how safe the motorcycle driver, because the drunk dude in the truck that doesn’t see the motorcyclist poses the greatest danger). losing a leg isn’t cool. lots of legs and lives are lost riding motorcycles. (insert organ donor gratitude comment here, if you are inclined, which i am, except that the organ donors in this case would be men that i love.)

confession: i can’t get the “brady bunch” theme song out of my head. i hesitate to share this confession because i don’t want anyone else to get that song stuck in their head. please sing a queen song instead. (“fat-bottomed girls” is my favorite.)

confession: my car has been at the body shop all week. in order to go to the places i usually go, i’ve had to borrow a car or ask someone to pick me up, which means i’ve mostly stayed home. i sleep more when i stay home. sleeping is good. staying home is good. my life is good. i’m trying to be good. i’m not that good, but i’m not bad either.



About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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