Flying Effing Monkeys

**Caution: Language Ahead**

After a yesterday filled with far more emotion than I could reasonably be expected to process and acknowledge in one day, as well as one colossal shoe, I woke up this morning in a mood. You know the kind:

The don’t-fuck-with-my-fucking-juju-or-I-will-fucking-cut-you kind of mood, which of course is the twin sister to the fuck-it-alls.

If you’re not familiar with the fuck-it-alls, YouTube “fuck it all” and see what comes up. That’s roughly where I was upon waking.

It’s unusual for me to feel that much fuck floating around in my soul. My normal self may allow eff bombs to roll off the tongue effortlessly along with a liberality of other scintillating cuss words, but the feeling of that fucking umbrella is…

Fucking atrocious.

The problem with that fucking umbrella is that once it’s opened, it’s a tricky bitch to close. I don’t mean the kind of tricky bitch where if you just jiggle the stick a bit and mash that button a few times it will eventually cooperate and close the fuck up. I mean the kind where you feel like you’re carrying a huge fucking beach umbrella through the day, getting stuck in doorways, sticking it through the sunroof while you drive, and generally being a colossal pain in the ass everywhere you go because that fucking umbrella is so fucking obvious to everyone you see no matter how much you want to pretend there’s nothing wrong.

*sigh*

Then as I was looking through my photos I saw two side-by-side whose juxtaposition made me laugh and reminded me of a few things.

(Forgive the maker of the meme’s fucking lack of understanding about how commas fucking work.)

Sometimes the best way to judge a day is not with measuring the overall amount of good juju compared to the bad juju you encountered.

Nor is it simply by taking your mood and feelings into account, because as real as they are, they’re not the truth of your situation but rather your reactions to the truth.

Sometimes the best way to judge a day’s value is to take stock of whether you had to release the flying monkeys, and if you don’t have to release them and can remember to think on this one criteria, your umbrella will sort itself the fuck out.

Mine did.

⁂

Originally published 6 November 2017, republished 19 August 2019

© Gwendolyn Raczkowski 2017. All rights reserved.