Personal Truth #0 If you lay down in a bed of roses....

If you lay down in a bed of roses you are bound to get thorns in your ass

The sucky part about this
Is not the thorns inconveniently lodged in you keister
Nor the fact that you need a little help pulling them out
But the inevitable question:

"How the hell did you get all those thorns stuck in your ass in the first place?"

The unavoidable response is
At best
The worst blow to your ego… like watching your personal pride pedalstool crumble like "that cookie" your mother always warned you about

At least that is how it seems… a few months ago Terick and I got the offer of a life time. We were offered a chance to start again, start fresh. It was almost too good to be true. A job that offered us enough money to:
-get our lives on track
-get back into school
-carry out the wedding of our.. okay my dreams
-start a little nest egg
- and anything else that our mothers told us responsible adults are wildly rumored to do with their cash

All we had to do was:
-put our lives on hold
-move out of our apartment
-sell/ throw away/ get rid of everything that did not fit into our car
-squat with the in-laws
-quit our jobs
-say a temporary goodbye to our wonderful supportive social circles
-and go to hell… and by hell I mean Los Angeles of course

Everything was coming up roses
All signs pointed to yes
So we did

We took that gigantic leap of faith… me with eyes shut tight and screaming in mortal fear and Terick eyes wide open, laughing with pirate goofy ears on…

We hovered for a bit in the air …an endless stuffy purgatory where I eventually tiered of screaming and Terick's smile was beginning to strain the muscles of his face.

And then we landed

In those roses

Butt hurt

Because I now have thorns in my ass

That wonderful job offer fell through, vanished, and dissipated… poof.
Like coming to the last bit of that mary jane and realizing that you were not in fact high.
Pissed
But who can I complain to… I should have done it anyway right ;)

Because of my medication I can not handle this situation in the usual way which involves a bottle of hooch, mid grade tequila and four kamikazes (not the shots.. the full glass) And because of a health condition and my new found respect and regard for my own life I can't bring myself indulge in a binge fest to end all binge fests.

Instead I am totally sober and sugar free... well low at least

Now I did try my damndest to take to my bed like those willow wisp women you read about in Jane Austen novels… but my beautifully large well rounded Gaia Goddess ass makes laying on my back staring at the ceiling physically uncomfortable after the first three hours

I tried to squeeze out some kind of a breakdown. But for some reason emotional rollercoasters just aren't as fun as they used to be.

Those thorns brought a kind of clarity though. My life was over due for an over haul. I was comfortable in my job, my place, my lulling mediocrity. Well not totally comfortable… comfortable enough. It would probably be another 25 years before I realized that I was living a lie, shave my head, get tattoos, buy a little red corvette, a carton of menthols and drive off into the Nevada Dessert blasting the sound track to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. But lucky me… I was spared all that!!! Besides I didn't really like those Christmas Decorations anyway.

So there I was picking myself up and picking the thorns out of my ass while contemplating how the hell I was going to go from living to LIVING
When the phone rang.

Strong possibility that the deal is back on

So here I am now
In the air
again

Wondering where I will land this time
Wondering if I had possibly mistaken the creeper quality for regular MJ

Either way
I'll more than survive
And it will make great writing material in the end.
(puff puff)