Let’s face it, 2020 has weighed pretty heavy on the shit scale of things.
Shortage of toilet paper.
Being stuck in the house.
Life, as we know it, being cancelled.
Before this all started, I decided on August 29th 2019, the day before my birthday, that I was going to grab this year right by the balls. This was going to be “The Year of Gigi”. I no longer wanted to waste anymore time on thinking of all the things I wanted to do and not doing them, instead of jumping out of the freight train’s way known as life,and instead hoping into the conductor’s seat myself. I was finally going to put on my conductor’s hat and fill that firebox and push on full steam ahead. You see, in the past 6 years I have lost 2 of my closest friends, people I thought would be in my life forever. And when something like that happens you realize life is moving on every year, faster and faster, whether you’re ready for it or not. Each day, each moment, each breath, even if it doesn’t always feel like it, is a gift.
I was doing pretty good. I was trying new foods…..
Who am I kidding, I still wasn’t doing anything that I swore I would do.
Then March happened. My mental health took a turn for the worse and so to keep sane, I started posting daily on my Facebook page, what was fondly known as the Coronavirus 2020 Log. It was filled with all the things I use in my stunted emotional package that I use to get through things, Inappropriate humor, crude language, sarcasm, and Zoloft. I never realized people would find my life as amusing as I do but it was a great way to connect with people that were not within the four walls of our love nest. That’s when the suggestion of starting my own blog was first presented to me.
Writing is nothing new for me. I have kept journals since middle school. I feel bad for everyone involved, eventually someday I will die and their contents will not be so well guarded anymore. It has always been a way to let out anger, happy moments, when I’m scared,really anything I feel like writing about but surprisingly enough I didn’t write nearly as much as I thought I would being stuck in the house. It was hard to when all of the hours and days seemed to merge together and there was only so much I could write in those forsaken books. How many times could I write about meals? Gardening? Tie-Dying? At least when I through it out into the world of Facebook I heard back from people, there were voices on the other side of the screen.
As the world slowly started opening up again I decided that I was no longer going to keep up with the daily posts. I didn’t plan on missing it….
So I thought of all the reasons why I shouldn’t start blogging….
Who would want to hear from an almost middle aged mom of two who’s biggest challenges include getting the boy to stop screeching in the house and to bring his wet towels down from his bedroom and the girl to stop being so careless and to stop stealing my makeup and art supplies?
I literally have no fashion sense. I still rock my three striped Adidas like it is 1989, safety pins with beads and all and I own fanny packs still. I think they are called something else now though. Like shoulder slings or something…you can put lipstick on a pig but it’s still a pig, same thing.
I swear entirely too much and some people think my brutal honesty is pretty cringe worthy.
And although I am nowhere near where I used to be, I still maintain I am one confrontation away from being the white trash I felt I was always destined to be. What can I say, you can take the girl off of Otis Ave but you can’t take the Otis Ave out of the girl.
But then I thought of the one reason why I should. It gives me part of my voice back. Who would have thought all these years I had been holding back?
So here is where I give you the full disclosure, if you offend easy, don’t like swear words or things that may seem “unladylike”, and off putting sarcasm then this probably isn’t the blog for you. Feel free to remove yourself now, negative and unkind comments will be happily deleted while I flash my screen the middle finger. I look forward to hearing from my followers and getting to know you through my sick and twisted little world.
So maybe the rest of this year won’t suck huge proverbial balls. Maybe there is still some hope for 2020. Lord only knows if this year has taught me one thing, it has been to stay hopeful.
Here’s to the start of something good. Thanks Auntie O’Brien, I hope you approve…