Whip My Burden Down

Even though we had Monday off (well I did – let me not speak for erybody), this feels like the longest week ever. My work woes make me wanna holla, throw up bof my hands, then bring em back down and smack my crazy co-worker. This week has me being like eff this thing called adulthood. Eff bills. Eff continued car problems. Eff these centipede bugs in my house. Eff working out and tryna be fit. Eff my responsibilies. Nope I don't wanna do it. Don't wanna help you. Or you. Or you either. What I really wanna do, what I really wanna do, I wanna go back and lay on the beach RIGHT FREAKIN NOW!

Ahhhhh but that is not life. It goes on and so do we, just how we it is no mystery...* But this week has me thinking about what we put weight on. How the things we dwell on probably will be of little importance in life’s overall timeline. How what we think matters so much at the time will barely register years from now. And if it does, you be like, "I was trippin off that?!? What was wrong with me?"

This week I thought about how I used to work for a crazy woman who lived in DC, but one day claimed she was stranded at Reagan National Airport. Yes, you read that right. No it didn't make sense then and years later it still don't. And it made me realize in the midst of my current crazy how far I had come.

Back then I truly hated my job. Not just the people. The whole job. I was living at home. Waitressing at the skrip club on the weekends. Dating some dude who is now engaged to another chick. Ha! But what did I focus on back then? The crazy. The totally insane. The negative. The stressful situation. The complaints. The I needs. The 'get me the hell outta here', please and thanks pleas.

It’s what we do. Get bogged down in the details of life. Let the daily grind wear us down. Sweat allll the small stuff. Focus on the tears. Forget the things that make us smile. Shoooottt...forget to even smile.

But last night after I cooked myself a tasty meal and enjoyed being a couch potato, I stood in the front of my bedroom mirror with a hairbrush in one hand and channeled my inner 12 year old to Willow Smith’s new song ‘Whip My Hair’. Ok. I know. It’s not the best song ever. But it’s catchy and cute. And I, Rum Punch, whipped my hair back and forth, and did the wop, and almost gave myself whiplash. And in those three minutes I was carefree. Laughing. Unburdened. Shoved adult things aside for a few moments to just breathe. Sing. And whip it. Whip it real good.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*I really loved Empty Nest back in the day. NBC had a good Saturday line up back then.

Go 'head and whip yo' hair back and forth at your desk! :-)