My Gut Instinct has had several opportunities to say I Told You So's to my Id this week... Starting with
1) The choice to go to Little Miss Whisky's in the first place. Then the decision drinking two Awesomeness(es) would be more betterer than drinking... one. The surPRIZE was that less Awesomeness is more awesome. They also cost $10 a mug. (Yeek!) Which should imply something specific about a slushy. "Oh, you're that kind of slushy." That's the last time I'll be fooled by a slushy.
2) The choice to go to Zumba on Monday after Intermediate Ballet was cancelled. I knew communication had not been going well between my scapulas and my vertebrae and my abdominals and pectorals, and that they would probably end up not speaking by the end of the class (Ballet is a little more calm and controlled, and I argue that the system might have been able to handle that). But Zumba just sounded like such a party! (That is how they market Zumba - like a workout that feels more like a fiesta than like a treadmill. And it does. Unless it temporarily ruins a lot of relationships in the process. And so it did.) And then
3) I thought it would be (though I KNEW somehow it wouldn't be) smart to take a pain pill on a stomach full of warm blackberries and raspberry juice, which in fact had a similar effect as the double Awesomeness did after two beers. I didn't mention the two beers? Yes, a foolish night from beginning to end. Except the point at which I suggested my cab driver pick up a man flagging us down, a man who ended up insisting on covering both our fares because it's so shamefully hard for a black dude to catch a cab in DC at night and he was a black dude and it was 330am on Halloween weekend. That was the one good choice of the night. The kindness of strangers to strangers is a holy thing.
4) I know there is a multitude of other ridiculous things I've done this week, KNOWING that I was being ridiculous, but they are eluding me. On purpose no doubt. Like naughty little children, hiding under their beds as mommy paces the hallway smacking a wooden spoon on the palm of her hand, an audience of mommy's friends waiting for their shame to be made public. I don't blame them. At least the dumb things are smart. I give them that.
I'm going to listen to my smart voice now and go to bed.
Just kidding.
From the drafts folder
6 years ago
I like the story of the cab on Halloween and the fact that you thought to have the driver pick him up. And I like how you were just kidding about going to bed :)
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