Who I Am

I discovered something pretty funny about myself the other day. Most days I put on a great game face and BS with the best of 'em. I can be sweet and polite and well-mannered. I can be thoughtful and soft-spoken, and sometimes I can even use big words. I can clean up my act in front of family and colleagues and others who I perceive may not approve, but in the end, I am just a girl with a terrible potty mouth.

I woke up a few nights ago in agony. I had a charley horse in my calf. I hadn't had one in ages, and forget how paralyzing they can be. Since I was alone in bed with no one to massage it out and allay my pain, I knew I had two choices: writhe in pain forever or get my ass up and stretch it out. You're probably thinking, what's the big deal? We've all had charley horses, am I that big of a baby? Well yes, I am that big of a baby, but here's the funny part. I awoke from a deep sleep to this unbearable pain and began yelling *(warning to sensitive readers)* Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Motherfucker, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, and on and on- you get the point. The inner dialogue I detailed above took place after I began yelling the obscenities, for they were the FIRST thing to come to my mind, and to my lips. As I was out of bed stretching my leg and still flailing Fuck around, I wondered if any neighbors might have heard me. And then I had to laugh. There's nothing like a crisis situation in the midst of deep sleep to bring out your true colors. And apparently my true colors are peppered with my favorite F word. Sorry mom. I am who I am.

Though I endured some serious, albeit temporary, pain, I am happy to cross off #268 in the process: find out my favorite curse word.