Taking a Moment to Enjoy Small Things or I Was a Sad Crazy Bitch Lady Yesterday and Today Will Be Better

Yesterday was ugly for me. I was sad and angry. I was stressed and hurt. So today I am going to take a minute to think and be grateful for things that make me happy.

  1. I am grateful for pink blooms on trees that litter the ground after a storm. That shit is pretty.
  2. The trees at the health department are starting to bud. I will forever find it funny that the trees there can give me such joy. Beautiful trees, vaccinations for children, and STD tests: That place has everything.
  3. Blue Candy. I think it is safe to say that blue candies are the best, and while I understand “blue coconut” may not be a real flavor it is still the best. I know this to be true because there are far less of them in any bag of candy. The manufactures know and are holding out on us.
  4. Diet Coke. Let me make this clear I do not drink Diet Coke to take off pounds. I do not drink it to counter act my calorie intake. I know it rots your insides, but damn if it doesn’t have a great chemical burn.
  5. The color gray.
  6. Wearing brown and black together. Social norms be damned I think it is fine.
  7. My sister and I when we find someone or something that bugs us and we than become consumed by it.
  8. Wax cubes of smells are the greatest invention ever.
  9. Low rumbly thunder.
  10. Adding to my collection of clothes I wish I had on Pinterest. I would be so put together if I lived in that Pinterest board.
  11. The “Ask a Mortician” series on YouTube is the gift I will leave you with. I am Oprah like that. Go to that link and take on the greatness. Go.



My Bullshit Poem

I may have written a poem or an oddly worded story. I don’t know which it is.

A Queenryche fantasy of Chinese food
consumed on an old mattress.
The sheets a part of a charity case; the pattern
could be seen on Little House on the Prairie

You’ll draw while I read
on a couch propped up by The Tommyknockers.
The only book of appropriate thickness.

On the mattress we sleep
our legs intertwined like the dusty
cables of the television.

The baby sleeps in shoes so her toes are not cold.
In footed pajamas and a pair of off brand tennis shoes
she roams the front room.

The mice gnaw at the wood inside the walls,
a scrapping sound that projects
a much larger animal.

The roaches that travel between houses,
crawl over the dinner dishes, dragging
filth behind them.

The couple on the mattress pays no mind.