First of all, I hardly ever get sick. Second of all, I think I have had a headache since Saturday. Third of all, I really believe my body is in rebellion. I realize whats about to happen. I love trying new things. I love this whole detox thing. I do love discipline. It makes you that much better.I am weaning myself off eating crap. Slowly, but surely...but its showing. I feel like my body is like the money you could be saving with Geico. Little eyeballs. Sitting next to me as I type this.
I mean, yesterday, I didn't have any junk. It felt really good. So, I think that's why I feel the way I feel today. Y'all are gonna be mad.I mean, really mad. Mad to the point you call your mama and tell her all about it. She may invite you over to sit on the couch with her and soothe you like when you were little. You're gonna be like, Why didn't I pick something to give up for lent? I'm a dumb ass. Ooh, and you're gonna be proud too. Surprised. Excited. Jealous to a point. Man, you're gonna feel a plethora of emotions.I'm jealous of the way you get to feel over my journey.
Its gonna be painful. For me. And maybe for you. I'm sure there are going to be days when I feel like a cat in a pillowcase. There may be days when I beg you to beat me with soap inside of a pillowcase, like in prison, maybe then, I will learn my lesson. Hopefully, there will plenty you can do with a pillowcase concerning me.
Then again, there is the emergency box buried in the back yard. You know where the directions are. Unless, Champ ate them. Which is probable. So, in that case, just wing it.
I may not drink coffee today. Wait, I didn't say that. The worms in my brain are apparently poisoning me as I type. I am having hot tea this morning. It has caffeine. Its also soothing my sweet little throat. It may have more caffeine than I realize... cause I'm feelin pretty bangin.
I used to babysit for this single mom, when I was around 17. She paid me in beer. She was a straight up hellion. It didn't matter, I was 17 and loved beer. I loved anything that I wasn't supposed to have or do. My parents were strict. They did their best to harness me in, it seems like I owe alot to them for my method of madness. I was alot like a pup on a runner in the yard. Like on Tom and Jerry? I'm the bulldog.
I want to do my own thing, but need someone to call me out when the crazy starts getting out of hand. And it gets out of hand pretty quickly....but in that, look, P's acting out kind of way. Remind her of her age. That shuts her down.
I don't think I'm random. I think I'm just Paula.
So even when you're a wife, and your husband needs to go the pad store for himself, just like the lady paying me in beer, we all have our issues that we want to pawn off on someone else.
Its just our choice whether or not we make it into our own.
Calling you in 5.
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