Twisted Fears

Lately when I write it sounds like I’m taking myself way too seriously, sort of like a 51-year old hormonal tight ass.  Nothing could be more completely unacceptable.

But even as I write those words I hear a voice in my head say,

“Well, it IS your only life.  It would be nice if you didn’t fuck it up.  You might want to take it a LITTLE seriously.”

Some people stop eating (not me), some people get ulcers (not me).  Fear simply paralyzes me.

I just had the most evil thought . . . I’m starting to sound like Oprah.

* * *

As Anni said in a recent comment, “So change your life!“  Oh, Anni, I would if I only knew how.  But I’ve become such a pussy.

MEOW!

Although being someone’s princess looks like a lottery windfall, if you listened closely enough you’d hear the “drip, drip, drip” of eroding self-confidence.  One day you realize your balls have withered and resemble an airless old leather football.

At 19 I stood on the wing of a plane and stepped off into nothing but air. I’ve always thought it was one of the dumbest things I ever did but maybe that’s not true.  Maybe the epitome of stupid is really the hesitation to act on your own behalf, fear of success and failure in equal parts.

“There are no mistakes” according to “Zen and the Art of Happiness” by Chris Prentiss.

Intellectually I believe it.  Acting on it is an entirely different story.

* * *

So for today I’m going to make a list of my most ridiculous fears, hoping it will explain why I’m so stuck.  Here goes:

1.) If ever given the chance to escape my eagle eye, I fear my 14 year old daughter will gain 100 pounds and stop brushing her teeth.  Her deodorant will sit unused.  She will begin dating on the sly (since all men love enormous girls with atrocious breath).  Her boyfriend will be a big nasty bruiser, his hobby will be pimping.  I will be entirely to blame.  My selfishness will have caused her downfall.

2.) When I move I will lose my hairdresser. (I know, can you believe this ranks right below my daughter’s life?  This is how completely shallow and vapid I am.) Although I rarely am happy with my hair today, it will be so much worse.  I will have to go to SuperCuts and they will scalp me and my big fat face will shine like the moon.  I will never have enough money for a decent dye job, so I will purchase boxes of dye in a discount food store like Aldi’s.  I will dye my own hair and whenever I sweat the color will drip down my neck.

3.) I will end up homeless and I do not like the out of doors.  Bugs and bright sunshine are my kryptonite.  Sleep and/or the cold will no longer be my friends.  When it rains I will get wet and my hair will smell like a fat man’s feet.

4.) Pharmaceutically speaking I’ll be screwed if ever I can’t purchase the ridiculous amount of drugs I take daily.  However, if I have no money for food I can stop taking insulin, which really could be a plus.  If I don’t overeat then I don’t need to take insulin.  And I’ll lose weight.  Things are already looking up.

As you can see, my mind works like a see-saw.  I argue with myself, just like schizophrenics in the street.  On the other hand, I already have a pack of homeless compadres waiting for me to join them under a bridge somewhere.

5.) My teeth will all fall out.  I will not be able to afford dentures, my face will cave in and I will look like I give BJ’s at a truck stop for a living.

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