Estimated reading time: 2 – 3 minutes
(Originally posted April 22, 2009)
Monday evening I was in my kitchen peeling potatoes and blubbering because I just felt awful. After months of perpetual optimism, of going against my nature and being a perky person, I cracked. I just effing cracked. Reasons? Too many and too embarrassing to actually type and have posted on the internet. (Even though I’m trying to do the blog thing, I just can’t open my heart to that extent. At least not yet.)
So I’m peeling these potatoes, my hand flying across those spuds with my demon peeler, hacking away with the ferocity of a savage, and crying my eyes out. My husband reaches over, gently pries the peeler out of my bloodless fist, and says, “Why don’t you let me do this?”
I answer somewhere along the lines of, “Fuck no! I must take my rage out on something already dead.” (I’m sure it didn’t really go past “Fuck no!”)
Anyways, I’m cutting the bejeezus out of these potatoes, swearing off ever being a good schmuck again, embracing my inner evil, seething with the injustice of why does everything I touch effing fail, when I said, “You know what my company motto is going to be? What is best in life?”
Yes!
Instantly, I felt better.
Oh, I still raged about selling my soul, hating everyone but my holy trinity (oldest son, youngest son, and husband), stomping on all who oppose me, etc.
But I felt better. I felt good. I felt empowered. I felt awesome. So here’s a clip for all you who don’t know where “What is best in life?” comes from and for all of you who do and need a pick-me-up.
I’ve missed Julian & Lily as well. I’m...