I can smell spring. The snow has melted. The birds are busy. Buds and bulbs are sprouting. I can smell spring! And I am happy.
In celebration of spring, I started cleaning out my blog site - deleting drafts of unpublished posts when I came across this one from over a year ago....
Last night my dreams included a giant, anaconda slithering around me, under me, above me. It never bit me but it showed its fangs. And it made the most horrible hissing sound. It's eyes were pink, its tongue was blood red.
I have a very wise friend who gives very good advise. Most of the time I listen. But not today. Today I'm not listening because there is anger looming around, under and above me. Sometimes is seeps inside me. It makes me feel ugly.
I have no idea where I was going with this. I don't know who this "very wise friend" is, although most of my friends are wise. I don't know what could have pissed me off so much that I conjured up a monstrous, semiaquatic snake.
This unpublished post was written before cancer. I used to divide my life into, "Before Kerry died" and "after Kerry died." Now I have a subsection, "Before cancer and after Kerry died," and "after cancer and my father died." Somewhere along the line, I learned not to hold onto anger. Not to let anger spoil an otherwise glorious day.
Yesterday my anaconda was the lonely, ass-crack bearing maintenance man who insists my post-mastectomy blog post photo's are pornography and then prints them out and passed them out to people in my neighborhood.
Yesterday, the anaconda ass-crack man confronted me about my dog being off the leash, in the pouring rain, less than 8 feet from my property. He waited for almost 15 minutes, hidden behind a brick pillar and then pounced on me with his eyes a blaze, his belly bulging, his massive, belt-looped ring of keys jingle jangling.
I must confess that I had the best time repeating "Argo Fuck yourself" in various tones, over and over and over again. And then I walked into my day... happy.
Cancer taught me a thing or two. Today, I know not to let ass-crack man spoil more than a minute of my day. I visualize ass-crack man in a room full of other like bodied ass bearing men. And they are jolly. They are rejoicing in the fact that they are no longer lonely. And they go about their day spreading sunshine and rainbows and buttercups everywhere they go.
I tell you, I smell spring! And I am happy.
Love and Happiness, MonkeyME