Are You Effing Serious?
Day Twelve…
Fail.
Task Twelve: Tame my sailor tongue.
I’m cursed. I’m forever cursed with my cursing tongue. My exclusively homo sapiens ability to maneuver sounds into eloquent, lilting expressions encompassing a seemingly endless array of human emotion and thought is a total and complete waste. Particularly in Bay Area traffic. I didn’t get anywhere close to game time before my penchant for 4-letter utterances reared its ugly head. I made it through the first stop light as I meandered my way toward the supermarket, but light number 2 got the better of me. It wasn’t really the stop light that got me so much as the idiotic woman who couldn’t be bothered to use her turn signal as she swerved in front of me to avoid the cyclist that she had to have seen for at least the block prior if not several blocks prior. Yes, the expletives were flying.
It’s funny how those 4 letter friends are just so damn er, darn, satisfying under certain circumstances. I even searched Mental Floss for a list of old-timey curse words but “consarn” just doesn’t have the same effect when some bleepity-bleep cuts you off on Park Blvd. It would be fun to try to use “dumbfungled,” even though it’s a bit of a mouthful, but I don’t often need a curse word that roughly translates to “used up.” Does anyone need a curse word for that? “Hornswoggle,” on the other hand, is a term with which I’m surprisingly familiar. My father uses that one frequently and has for as long as I can remember. I always thought he made it up. I wonder if Mental Floss can tell me where he got Christ on a crutch…
The conclusion I came to after this particular experiment (aside from the realization that it’s totally futile) is that I don’t especially want to give up my expletives. They just make me feel better, more clear headed — kind of like a sneeze. It’s that same sort of instantly gratifying release; one syllable, one quick motion, and I just feel better.
And no, you weren’t sucked into some crazy vortex wherein Wednesday suddenly comes after Monday. I missed another day. For those keeping count, that’s two in less than two weeks. And this time I didn’t even account for it by doubling up the day before. I am simply a sorry excuse for a human being, terribly flawed and unable to handle even the tiniest of tasks. I have no excuse. Actually, I do have an excuse but it mostly boils down to the poor planning of my day yesterday. As an act of contrition I solemnly vow to do double task duty one day in the very near future. As for my current task I’ve been attempting to do 4 consecutive pirouettes. For reference, this morning I was barely able to do 1 pirouette. I was once able to do 4, all one after another, but I’m pretty sure it was about 3 decades ago. My knees are already hating me.
Happy Hump Day!
