This is what I’ma gonna do to the next negative thought that enters my mind: I’ma gonna pulverize it, banish it to my brain’s basement using the super spectacular lyrical skills of BBD: Smack it up, flip it (rub it down)! Sure, the lyrics belong to a highly sexually suggestive song of theirs, but hey; they’re working for me right now in other ways.
I went on a rant recently about having been seen in public not looking my best. Um, no one made you leave the house the way you did, duh. I’ve been killing my mind the past few weeks, tormenting myself with cut my hair or don’t cut my hair. I have generally been an all around complainer. Then yesterday everything on my body was sweating while at a midday baseball game with coworkers. It was 94 degrees. If there’s one thing I don’t complain about, it’s the sun. Yet. It was 94 degrees at a ball game. Unshaded. With water that had lost its coldness. And $12 frozen margaritas and $8 bad beer (neither of which I opted to get since I’d already succumbed to the unpretty thought of spirit induced death by heat stroke and I couldn’t remember if my underwear and bra matched and yeah, that IS SO a valid thought to have at that time!).
I went into the bathroom and was met by nearly six other women, all standing in front of one mirror assessing themselves.
“Well. This is attractive.”
“I think all ideas of cuteness disappeared the minute we all entered the park.”
As they each gave themselves a final “oh, well, what’re you gonna do” I was still at cut my hair or don’t cut my hair. Still mentally embroiled was I this afternoon that when I went out to escape the igloo-like office, I almost missed this
The sun instantly cheered me up (as it always does). The ducks made me smile. And while certainly not tropical or able to solve the cut or don’t cut dilemma, they certainly stopped my bitching about nonsense.
OK, yes, until tomorrow.