Its Tuesday. Im bored and kind of sick. Just thought I'd share. However, I am still a secret blessing. Thanks to Jan for the little owl/chicken/cotton ball (??) card thingy to post.
Do you ever wish you could turn back time (in a Cher kinda way of course) - and impart all of your hard gained wisdom to your younger self? Well you can't. But I have decided to play the "what if" game and talk to 20 year old Marg. Enjoy or cringe or both. Dear Twenty Year Old Marg, You are a fucking idiot. Put down that slice of pizza and start working out. Your 40 year old atrophied muscles will appreciate that. You feel that you have the whole world ahead of you - you don't. Don't waste your time with college. It sounds really great now - but trust me you will keep going and going and going to get degrees that you will not use and bring zero sense of accomplishment. Go to cosmetology school - become a hairdresser. Or go become a nurse - its what you will want to do. And know that you will have the same hairstyle for the next 20 years - but its ok because it still looks pretty cool. And I apologize for the fucking idiot comment - 40 year old Marg is kin...
I have an assignment due tomorrow. Not a work assignment or a school assignment but a self growth and discovery project. So I am totally screwed. I have been tasked with physically writing down 10 things I like about myself that don't involve physical appearance. I have 3. Although if I list procrastination I now have 4 things. And the fact that I don't punch babies or kittens could potentially be 5 - and 6 if I separate them into two items! For a person with self esteem just below toilet level - it has been brutal trying to think of things that I kinda don't hate about myself. (And yes I equate "Kinda don't hate" with like - it happens) I've also been awake for a lot of hours. Like way too many hours. I don't think hallucinating frogs counts as an item for my list. Although that does seems a bit discriminatory against amphibians. But hey frogs, take it up with those counseling types. I think they would call that a "cop out" Sorry fro...
Yep that's right. Bitter. Which coincidentally rhymes with Shitter which is where my NON EXISTENT love life is at the moment. So what Bitter- fied me? Jan goes on her first date post divorce and the guy texted her after the date to tell her he had a good time and wants to see her again. Now I LOVE Jan to death (even when we both leave the bathroom doors open while peeing and I can see her sitting on the pot, via the circa 1980 mirrored closet doors that she has in the bathroom!) But I have been on about, oh I don't know, A BAJILLION dates and .... NOTHING. Cooties. It has to be cooties. I must have them and guys know it. Shit. Guess it is time to get back to the bathroom mirror (no sickos ... not to watch Jan pee) but to practice "I am a precious treasure" over and over and over until hell - maybe I'll want to date myself.
Comments
Post a Comment