Lather, Rinse, Repeat

October 20, 2016

I was just in the shower washing and shaving all my bits.

Extra-long shower because I decided to wash my hair before the situation became critical…

And I had an amazing revelation.

I have my body back.

As I realized this a grin pulled up the corners of my mouth and I haven’t stopped smiling since.

Today is the last ghostly pink hued day of shark week.
I am no longer mass producing snot in a way that I wonder where it all came from and how did it fit in there after a cold lasting 2 days but lingering for 10.
No annual cold sore making me feel like a monster of biblical proportions.
No crazy pimples to report.
Nothing hurts.
I look good and feel even better.
I just exfoliated, taking off layers and double-shampooed with a  fresh mani/pedi gloriously clean.

What a wonderful day.

I’m no longer dragging said body out of bed to go to a job I didn’t love, wearing a shirt that I hated like a straight jacket, limiting my movements and basically being stuck somewhere I didn’t belong for hours out of my day just to return with the life sucked out of me and too tired to do much of anything except have some wine about it.

I have my body back, after it was held hostage by all these things that make me feel not myself.

What to do, what to do?

Well, I am me so…

First thing I did was masturbate and give myself a mind boggling tantric orgasm that I can still feel in the lower part of my belly.

I wore clothes that I couldn’t wear while I was bleeding because I didn’t want to get blood on them.

Went the extra mile and put some make up on, because I can and it feels good.

And now I have to go do laundry and read 50 Shades of Grey for research purposes, and some motivation. Stuck on the book again. I want it done and over with. It is well past time to move on from that and them. And I have.

Amazing when I have my body, heart and mind all healthy and happy and working in conjunction.

Yesterday I prayed for today.

I had a small breakdown.

I’m a crier, in that I cry, a lot. Tear ducts are in a perpetual test pattern I guess. Usually I know why while I’m doing it, but yesterday I was vexed.

I think/know now that it was this hostage situation that was plaguing my corporeal self, and the soul I carry around in this skin I am in was really tired, like bone tired. Weary then teary.

I pulled myself out of it and had a candlelit bath about it. Felt all my sorrows swirling down the drain when I pulled the plug and simply decided today was going to be better. It has been, substantially.

I misplaced my logic yesterday and forgot the golden rule. This too shall pass. Worrying has never been scientifically proven to speed time up or change anything at all really but it can slow things down and drag them out.

Yesterday I prayed for today, then I pulled myself out of my funk and put myself to bed early with a little whiskey in my belly.

The last month has felt super crazy long because I let it. I allowed myself to worry and stress over things I had no control over. I didn’t rest when I should have. I smoked too much and fell into a pattern of ‘poor me’ instead of celebrating the good things I have.

Now I know I’ll get sick again. I have 21 days until shark week returneth. I will probably find something to cry over, drink too much or pull something.

But today?

Today I will enjoy the container my guts came in in all of its glory, tomorrow too and as many days as I can.

I write these words here, snap a selfie or two to remind me of how good I can be.

And by doing so, I know I can postpone feeling like shit again for a good long while.



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