If there was a word for each day, today’s would be “disgruntled”… unreasonable a close second. One of those days where I don’t feel like smiling or being jovial. I just want to simmer in my sullen, slovenly mess.
There’s work to be done. Website to update, products to add, photos to upload.... And if not any of that, there’s always floors to vacuum, clothes to launder and the untidy things that need to be, well… tidied. And I want to say piss off to all of it, adding that emoji with the tongue sticking out just to help drive home the point. I could make myself power through, drawing deep from my willpower, pull myself up by my bootstraps and do them anyways.
But today, that’s not what I want to do.
Today, I want my grumble and scowl and waste my day doing things that are completely and utterly useless. I want to make a nest on the couch so deep and wide I need help extracting myself from it. Not fireman rescuing a kitten from a tall branch kind of help, but the I’ve sat so long in my snuggly station that my legs have gone to sleep and I need your hand to stand up again help. That’s all.
I want to write words that no one judges or tries to change. Words that I just feel like saying whether they’re written in an eloquent way or not. But I still want them to be amazing and ingenious. And I want the world to love those words. So very much, I want the words I write to connect and embed into the very soul of every single person reading them in a way they never imagined words could ever do! And I don’t want to edit it.
I want to drink that amazing green tea from Panera Bread and I don’t want to drive 20 minutes to get it. Or pay for it either. And I want someone who has a basic understanding of communication to take that order. A person who seems to know that a “Hi”, “Good morning” or even simply a “What can I get you?” is not too much to ask for and that staring blankly in my general direction is not the same as uttering… anything.
And I want to eat a salad, even though it’s 9am. Not one made by Panera. I want it made it from the ingredients already sitting in my fridge, just not by me. A salad with some fried chicken, hard boiled eggs and cheese, all snuggled under a blanket of ranch. And bacon. And I want to lose 5 lbs eating it too.
I want to want to workout, and furthermore, I want it to be effective. Toning and tightening all the things that gravity and that asshat known as time keep violating. But I don’t want to sweat. Or be uncomfortable. And if I could manage that workout while still drinking my tea on the couch, all the better.
Afterwards, I want to hurt in a good way and not in the way that necessitates having to fall the last 6 inches when trying to sit for the next 3 days or the way that involuntary grunts can’t help but escape your lips when trying to put socks on in the morning.
And I want to sing in public. Not on a stage or on the radio. In a store, while I’m running errands. Why can’t I? Why?? Because maybe I’m not particularly good at it… pshhh but who cares. Plenty of people are not good at things in H-E-B (like not taking up the whole aisle with their body and cart). I want to annoy them the way they bother me. Singing is just the start.
And I really, really want people to just know things that one would think is common sense:
Brushing your teeth is not optional as a human being. Also, you’re too close to my face. Ew.
No, that isn’t a real word. For God’s sake, invest in a dictionary.
My bumper is not Tinder. Try backing off and you won’t have to swipe it.
I want to be warm in the winter and warm (not hot) in the summer. I don’t care that I live in Texas. I just want to be comfortable. And I want the idiot who said there’s “no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing” to shut it. It’s obvious he’s never had a crushing sinus headache brought on by Texas’ inclination to go from 70° to 40° in the same day. No amount of garments can stop the massive onslaught of pressure that builds behind your face when it does, sir and you’re wrong. So incredibly wrong. In fact, I want your next quote to be… “I was wrong about that weather thing”.
But no, that’s not the way it works. Salads don’t make themselves. Tea needs to pass, and you need to leave your cozy perch on the couch to deal with it. The people in H-E-B will still be clueless and yes, the Lonestar State will continue treat us all to her bipolar mood swings.
And it’s ok.
I feel a bit more gruntled after sharing all of that with you. Even if you didn’t read this post as the literary equivalent to Michelangelo’s painting of the Sistine Chapel. And even if I have to tell you that gruntled is in fact a real word, go look it up… it’s all ok.
Sometimes you just have to wallow in your own absurdity until you see how incredibly ridiculous you sound and how all the things you think you might be wanting, maybe aren’t really that big a deal after all.
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