Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Top of the morning.

I've always liked it on top.

Top of the Peaks overlooking Georgian Bay. Top of the class, before life ran amok. Top of the cake – the corner bit where all the icing roses grow. And the top of the heap, metaphorically.

Suffice it to say, this morning I gleefully kicked the ass and closed the door on a year spent breathlessly searching for pennies on the bottom of a filthy community swimming pool.

Lesson have been learned. Botox injections are expensive, and only inhibit your ability to express sadness. Instead, I went for a complete inner overhaul, tossing out the things that were dragging me down below the surface. Things like "I can't", and Cheesies washed down with just about anything I could get my hands on. I fired a few clients, and let go of the guilt felt when I said, "No. No I can't".

I learned that putting yourself out there doesn't mean selling your soul.

I learned that money may not buy happiness, but not having any sucks.

I learned that waving a CAA card at a hotel check-in works wonders.

I learned that true friends don't try and change you, they just accept you for who you aren't.

I learned that having a birthday at this stage in the game, beats the fuck out of not having one.

This very weekend, I learned that the old bag who stole my parking spot at the grocery store may have won the battle, but a well-penned note placed on her windshield won the war. So tap your boney, frosted peach-polished finger on the K-car window all you want, you geriatric old bitch. No one can out-miserable me.

"Look," the birthday girl said, resurfacing and taking in a deep breath of sweet air, "a shiny new one!".