Wednesday 20 March 2019

Love letters to my own cracked soul.

I had to listen to Dare you to Move three times just to get out of bed. Today is a fight from the moment I opened my eyes and I plan to win. My corner's strategy is to power through. Take deep breaths. Envision it all rolling right off my back like a wave. Floating looking up at the clouds. Letting the weight disappear. Digging through the still-cool earth in search of life, but knowing where the (figurative) bodies are buried, and letting them rest.

My playlist is messed up and when all the iterations of Dare you to Move were finished, Wonderful Feeling came on. I have two of those (thanks, iTunes. Christ.) Okay, I feel better. Aspirins help too. My body hurts from running all day with coffee pots and arrows shot by entitled, spoilt-rude customers that I emerge wounded each night and everything aches something fierce and I have to fight that too.

I am two paychecks away from ten thousand dollars (not including tips, which can be really big. I just blow those because my charm demands a ransom for what it puts me though, after all) and I don't think I'm quitting yet. I want to prove I can fix myself and I'm not sure how this is going to do it but what if it is?

(Now today, people, please be nice in the ring because I'm really fucking tired and not in the mood for your shit.)