Sometimes it feels like the only reprieve you have in life is sitting on the toilet and playing Candy Crush. After what I am going to call ‘the weekend I got shat on’; it seems viable to do things like eat Pods like they’re chips straight after going for a walk up The Mount, to finally finish a 600 page book that ends in crude optimism, to indulge in the dulcet tones of Coleman Hawkins playing a personal concert to me (as I’d really like to truly believe), and to reassess my life so I can get back on track.
This comes with a lot of pep talks from family and friends that cut through my ‘why is this my life?’ sighs and is thrown back with the very advice that I’ve issued in the past. Those medicinal spoonfuls lovingly dished out are so hard to swallow when it’s your turn. I’m currently exerting all inner negativity by taking another dose of faking it until I make it, once again.
I would be able to handle everything usually because as I have learnt over the past that aint nothing gonna knock me down, but when everything of what the heckness is dished out in one serving, you feel it dig right into that little spot of vulnerability. And it knocks the wind out of you like you’ve been slapped in the face with a wet fish. Shock, surprise, and scaly fish goobies all over your face.
I know that I have to digest this, and I know that the bitter aftertaste will soon be gone from my palate. There is a lot to look forward to; plans in the pipeline, dreams to be made into realities, delicious 3 course meals to enjoy once again. Who am I kidding? I still have plenty of lovely little treats to sample, all around me now.