confession: because my brain works in my favor to make stuff funnier, my brain randomly reads some written words as other funnier words on a regular basis. for example, yesterday in the grocery store my brain read the coca-cola life packaging label as “with cane sugar and stem cells” instead of “with cane sugar and stevia.” if you’re gonna name a carbonated sugary beverage “life” at least infuse it with stem cells. duh.
confession: my brain plays a game with itself when my body hurts and can’t get out of bed called “wouldn’t it suck if…?” the rules of the game are that the sucky things are nearly impossible things, therefore helping me feel better about whatever sucky things are currently happening inside and around me. for example, during this morning’s round of “wouldn’t it suck if….?” the winning response was “wouldn’t it suck if during chemo for your cancer treatment all your hair fell out, including your eyelashes, except for your lady moustache?” because that would REALLY suck. eyelash-less mustachioed chemo-sick cancer-fighting lady. see? at least that’s not what i’m dealing with today. (neither are you. even if you’re getting chemo for cancer and your hair is falling out, i assure you that your lady stache will fall out, too.)
confession: mostly i eat kid food because kid food is fun to eat and quick to fix because it either microwaves or doesn’t need cooking but some days i only eat peas and i feel grown-up because i didn’t like peas as a kid.
confession: on any other day i would’ve canceled our tea date because i was in extreme pain, but because it was her birthday i didn’t cancel. since i have a long-term relationship with chronic pain, i’ve gotten good at hiding pain and faking okayness and doing what needs doing because it needs doing anyway, but there are some days that the pain is bigger than my capacity to hide it, fake it, or do what needs doing. on her birthday, the pain was too big to hide or fake which means she saw in my walk that i was hurting. as soon as i hobbled through her front door she set up the heating pad and massaged magnesium spray into my back and stirred up a glass of magnesium with calcium and brewed a cup of a chamomile tea and after twenty minutes of full-time focusing on taking care of me finally pulled up her rocking chair next to the couch, put her feet up next to mine, and began recounting the highs and lows of her birthday weekend thus far. we cried together and laughed together and the whole time i was in awe of her ability to ease my pain on her birthday. she’s good at her birthday. she’s great at loving people well. she’s the only person in my life who knows how to take care of me without my asking which makes her care-taking eaiser for me to receive since it is instantly offered. i’d be smart to spend my next birthday on her couch with the heating pad and bottomless cups of tea.
confession: if i had infinite time i’d write a series of books “how to be sexy without being slutty” intended for a female audience as they progress from puberty to middle age. book one would target the teenage years. book two would instruct women through their 20’s. book three would include advanced techniques for women into their 30’s and beyond. instead, since my time on this planet is finite, i have more fun writing raunchy fictional cautionary tales.