Pizza! On a Sunday? I don't think it can get any better than that. The only thing that would make this scenario better is if I was eating said pizza on the beach with a spiked green smoothie (kale, cucumber, three shots of vodka, collard greens, a hint of lemon) and some cabana boy was rubbing my calves. Yes, calves. What? They are so tight. You know what they say -- tight calves, cold heart. So there I am, lounging on the beach, drunk as high heaven, stuffing stuffed crust pizza into my face, and planning my TED Talk. Oh yeah, did I mention I am giving a TED Talk in this fantasy? Because I am. I am talking about, I don't know, the Apple Watch and/or cleaning teeth in Africa. This is the worst fantasy. This fantasy just gave me a hangover.
Okay! I'm back from the creaky corners of my mind! I did not intend to write all of the above, but here I am. What's been written has been written. No turning this ship around.
Yesterday I looked at a few apartments aahhhhahahahahahaaaaaaaaahhhhh. I actually found a place that juuuust might be perfect. Okay, nothin' is perfect (except for that cabana boy SCHWING), but the place would be very sufficient for me right now. Which scares me. Of course it scares me. Any change scares me. I am a Cautious Little Scumbag ("scumbag" was just a joke! don't worry! i like myself! i accept myself! i am worth it! i am only a scumbag 49% of the time!) and change is something I crave and need and totally run away from. Yep. I know I need to "move on to the next chapter," but I am glued to this page because I'm too afraid I'll get a paper cut if I turn it.
But I don't want to let this opportunity to pass me up. And I need to remind myself (over) (and) (over) (and) (over) (and) (over again) that any change, no matter how massive or minuscule, will eventually be... Not a change. Ugh. That was a lazy way of putting it. But do you get what I mean? We become accustomed. We find our new comforts. We see things differently and, fingers crossed, become better because of it. I hope this will be the case for me. Although I am a Cautious Little Sometimes-Scumbag, I am also a Brave Little Toaster-Girl. I can handle more than I realize. I am a strong mother effer. Trust yourself, sweetie. You'll be just fine.
Well, it's time for me to take a slice of pizza to the church of my mouth. I pray that you are able to do the same.
2 comments:
Meg, I fucking love you so much. And this post. I love the way you write your blog. I feel like you are "my people."
Kieren! I love you, too! You are also my people! We are each other's people. I hope that one day, by a strange twist of fate, you and I find ourselves sitting next to some pool getting our calves rubbed while getting drunk and gossiping about pop stars. You are a dream!
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