A Mess, A Really Big Mess

This is my new theme song:

Or has been for awhile and so it isn’t my “new” theme song.

Whichever

I am so funny in my head. You guys have no idea. The problem is interpreting to you people who aren’t in my head. Also, I’m pretty sure things I find funny, you guys might not, like I’ve recently made a concerted effort to up my water intake. I like water when I am in the habit of drinking it but getting into the habit sucks balls.  “Why, oh why am I drinking this water when I could be drinking my caffeinated, heavily artificially sweetened tea?” The other issue is that it makes me smell weird.

When I don’t drink water, my toxins stay safely tucked in my body. I don’t see them, and I’m not grounded enough in reality to care that they are slowly poisoning my system. It’s a nice homeostasis. Every once in awhile, I would get on a “make better life choices” kick and drink more water. Suddenly, like now, the toxins are pouring out of my body. What the shit. It’s like Mother Nature decided to kick me in the stomach while giggling maniacally and saying “Oh, you think you should make better life choices. Your reward is to smell very strange.”

I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is the same bitch that gives me the menstrual crazies and hell cramps.

I’m trying to be the best version of me bullshit because I’m all stupid in love. I’m not changing who I am, but I am trying to push myself a little to be more of the person I know I can be. It’s like that Helen Hunt Jack Nicholson movie where her loves makes him want to be less of a dick. It is sort of like that, except I’m okay with being a dick. I have a skin care regime for the love of the day-glo baby jesuses (jesi?) I will some day collect.

I was lucky in a strange way because I couldn’t lie or fake a bunch of things when I started dating him because of my blog. He knew I’m batshit insane when he signed on to this. (I wonder what that says about him.) I also have a terrible habit of giggling at farts and, I blame my mommy friends for this, I’m completely comfortable talking about poop. Sometimes, I’m even a little proud of the magnitude. That’s right bitches, not only did I just admit that I look at my poop, but I’m also a little proud when wreck the plumbing.  I never have a chance to pretend I’m a sweet, normal, delicate flower of a woman.

I do want to be better though. I want to be me, but just me who drinks more water and works out. I want to push at my flaws a little and make them a little better, at least my lesser flaws. Some of my flaws and damage will always be there. They are part of me. Some of them are part of what makes me wonderful. I want to try to push myself a little though. I will probably fail. One of my good qualities is my willingness to accept failure and try again.

Let’s see if I can make it through the stinky stage though.

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