Today was officially day one of detox. It is the first day you are on your own after leaving or finishing something you've been accostumed to for quite some time. It can be a boyfriend, a job, a certain type of food. It is the first day after you have decided that things cannot keep going at the pace they were.

So how am I feeling?

Quite paranoid, stressed, edgy, short of temper, exhausted and full of insomnia.

But kinda of looking at it from another perspective, I've kinda of always had those symptoms, waaaay before anything else...I think they were hardwired into my brain.

These Japanese Mechanics...!!

So I will keep my head held high and live by these wise wise words, courtesy of TLC's Life Lessons:



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This is a long ass holiday weekend!!
I am not scheduled to work again until Wednesday. So obviously, when my mom asked me if I would like to go to the supermarket for her, while she watched Miss C, I jumped right on it. I've been with Miss C since Friday, watchin' Tom & Jerry kick each other's asses. I needed a way out.

So she instructs me to go to this lil' mart near by to pick up some hotdogs, hamburgers, etc, cause she was gonna set up the grill and we were gonna take a dip in the pool. So I walk into this place, which I am completely unfamiliar with and it's like a laberynth of boxes all over the place, you can hardly fit your shopping cart through the isles, just really crappy. So I get most of the stuff on the list, but she had jotted down: "Ground Beef" and "Whole Chicken".

I know how to cook but I ain't the meat expert ya know. So I'm like standing there like an idiot looking at all this ground beef with different names attatched. Can't one package just say:

REGULAR FUCKING GROUND BEEF???

Thank u.

So I call my mom, I'm reading the labels out loud, people are staring, then I go to the chicken part, I know about chicken breasts, boneless skinless breasts, don't ask me about entire chickens, and don't ask me questions about pounds, prices, brands, colors...does it look yellowish? Is is a normal sized chicken? Does it look fresh?

I don't know...it's dead...isn't dead stuff not fresh...? isn't the correct terminology, Is it freshly dead?

So I get the chicken...I'm talking to myself in the isle, people are staring, I am looking fab, might I add, with blue shorts, beige sandals, a black and white purse, a blue graffitti handkerchief on my head and an orange shirt that read:

"My Reality Check Bounced"

Aren't supermarkets fun??

And I'm not gonna even go into our lil' bar-b-q and the fact that my father said he can distinguish Airplanes by their sound. My dad is a regular Superbionic Man. He can't sew a button, or remember shit, but he has superbionic ears that can tell if what is flying above us is an American Eagle Plane or a 747...

Shit. I am so fortunate.