Wednesday FUNK FIGHT

One thing that Wednesday does really well is the FUNK.  Monday may think it has a monopoly on funk, but Wednesday can be a perfect time to drift into an unrelenting sea of malaise.

“Didn’t this week start twenty five days ago?” one may ask .

“No, child,” Wednesday laughs, “You’re merely half way through. Have you been to the dentist recently?”

“Why would you ASK me about that right now, Wednesday?”

“Because, FUNK.”

Wednesday’s kind eyes turn tiny black stones, boring a whole through the heart.

Anxiety and dread are clever little creatures with roots in hyperbole. Sometimes if I ask myself what I’m really afraid of on a purely emotional level, and the answers are bizarre.

So, to fight the funk, I’ve tried to dissect mine. Here are some things that I can cross of my list of things to freak the hell out about.

Things that aren’t happening:

  • Baby will not actually be eaten by a dinosaur OR fall off a sky scraper.
  • Body will not actually dismantle itself for lack of personal care.
  • House will not actually become unmoored and float away during flash flood.
  • Dunkin Donuts will not actually cut me off.
  • The band Train will not actually find me and play their “the best soy latte that you ever had, and me” song over and over again until I cry and beg for death.

 

Things that are actually happening:

  • Baby is healthy and chubby and happy.
  • Family is close by, laughs often, adores my child, and is endlessly supportive.
  • Caffeine still works.
  • I can play “Blurred Lines” as many times as I want to in a row because I work alone.
  • Dinosaurs are EXTINCT.

 

“But,” Wednesday smirks, “what about the dentist?”

 

“MY MOTHER IN LAW WORKS AT A DENTIST’S OFFICE AND WE GO EVERY SIX MONTHS, OK?”

 

“Ok, fine. Isn’t it time to dye your roots?”

 

***head to desk to floor***

***cue Train***

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