What do you do when you've been a bad girl?
When you do unorthodox things, acts that are out of character for you? How do you recover from it? Asides from the usual, I will try not to do it again, how do you wipe that shame and guilt from your eyes? It is so hard. I feel like a child that needs to be rebuked, but instead I should be rebuking myself, because I am my own person now, so I should know better.
I've been living the past year and half as if it's my last. Ever since my 33rd actually. I've been caught up in this, what if this is the last year, and if it is, wouldn't you like to do this, or that? Go out in an awesome way. So far it's been amazing. I've had the time of my life these past months, it's a little irresponsibility with a dose of reality and many doses of fun, adrenalin, spontaneous fun. It's been awesome. Doing things that I have always pushed off to another day, doing them now, getting them out of the way. Accomplished. I feel like a child, looking at things with a refreshed sensibility, suddenly aware that it may not be my last year, but I have chosen to live it like it is...and if it is, what type of story do I want to tell...truly awesome stories, of course. Until...it really is.
I know I may not be making much sense. Life on the edge of fun and irresponsiblity never is. I went to some spring fling party on Saturday, free booze and I got a little carried away. I didn't exercise reasonable judgment by mixing my allergy meds with that much alcohol. Let's just say this is the 2nd time in my entire life I've been wasted. I am an accomplished alcohol enthusiast so I know my way around what works, and what doesn't. And I usually go into all these bright eyed. But this time, I was not. Let's just say I woke up ashamed. Famished. Thirsty. Confused. Meat-hungry. Groggy. Pissed.
But on the bright side, if this was the last year, how do I want to remember it, with something so memorable, though partially shameful that I may one day recount to my children, or do I want to be that boring person who never has stories to tell. Certainly not I? So to compensate and make me forget, I went and got some more ink. Yes...this time it turned out great. So a shameful regretful night out ended with a nice piece of ink that I will not regret. All's well, aye?!
When you do unorthodox things, acts that are out of character for you? How do you recover from it? Asides from the usual, I will try not to do it again, how do you wipe that shame and guilt from your eyes? It is so hard. I feel like a child that needs to be rebuked, but instead I should be rebuking myself, because I am my own person now, so I should know better.
I've been living the past year and half as if it's my last. Ever since my 33rd actually. I've been caught up in this, what if this is the last year, and if it is, wouldn't you like to do this, or that? Go out in an awesome way. So far it's been amazing. I've had the time of my life these past months, it's a little irresponsibility with a dose of reality and many doses of fun, adrenalin, spontaneous fun. It's been awesome. Doing things that I have always pushed off to another day, doing them now, getting them out of the way. Accomplished. I feel like a child, looking at things with a refreshed sensibility, suddenly aware that it may not be my last year, but I have chosen to live it like it is...and if it is, what type of story do I want to tell...truly awesome stories, of course. Until...it really is.
I know I may not be making much sense. Life on the edge of fun and irresponsiblity never is. I went to some spring fling party on Saturday, free booze and I got a little carried away. I didn't exercise reasonable judgment by mixing my allergy meds with that much alcohol. Let's just say this is the 2nd time in my entire life I've been wasted. I am an accomplished alcohol enthusiast so I know my way around what works, and what doesn't. And I usually go into all these bright eyed. But this time, I was not. Let's just say I woke up ashamed. Famished. Thirsty. Confused. Meat-hungry. Groggy. Pissed.
But on the bright side, if this was the last year, how do I want to remember it, with something so memorable, though partially shameful that I may one day recount to my children, or do I want to be that boring person who never has stories to tell. Certainly not I? So to compensate and make me forget, I went and got some more ink. Yes...this time it turned out great. So a shameful regretful night out ended with a nice piece of ink that I will not regret. All's well, aye?!
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