My Vagina Smells Like Feet, & Other Tragic Tales

Hint: the story has nothing to do with the title!

The burning, aching sensation at the back of my throat leads me to believe I might be coming down with something as I pull myself off the chartreuse chair in the corner and stumble towards the sound of my distant and incessant alarm. The sun is streaming in the windows, and frankly it's pissing me off. I suddenly realize that all of my symptoms might be explained by the fact that I am hung over, and as if on cue, my head begins to throb.

Glass of water in hand, I return to my chair, thinking of my day and what I should do with it. Perhaps I don't so much have to do something with it as it will do something with me. I peek out the curtains. Looks friendly enough. Maybe the world is a kinder place today. Maybe something radically changed overnight and now there are literal rainbows dancing in the streets. No, wait, Pride week isn't until next week. 

It's a "I want to stay in bed all day" kind of feeling that is currently residing in my cranium, which is exactly why I feel the need to at least get started with my morning ritual and go outside, where the universe can then have her way with me and manipulate my actions. I have nothing pressing to do, why not be molested by Mother Nature? 

Today I decide is the day I will just sit, and listen, and breathe, and wait for something to happen, instead of trying to make things happen, because maybe the things I've been trying to make happen are the wrong things, and I'm missing out on the bigger and better life that is available for the having. Not the taking, the having.

The best things in life are not the things you have to take, they are the things that are given to you. When someone gives you a precious gift, treat it well and wisely, or they might ask for it back.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed