Lately, I have had a mouth like a sailor. Generally, I have a few well-chosen words that I keep in my grammatical arsenal just for special occasions like almost having a car wreck, stubbing your toe or seeing a rattlesnake. But for the last few months, I have been generating sentences in long strings of four letter words that though eloquent, are rated R, not for children or puppies; etc.
I have discovered that cussing is my pain gage. No matter how I try to hide my hurts with smiles and straight-faced pleases and thank you’s, one can always tell the level of my emotional or physical discomfort by the amount of *&^%# words I string together and the colorfulness of the combinations of said words.
By that standard of measurement, I guess you could evaluate that I have had a couple of really rough months and you might think, wow, she works in the oil field. I am aware that it is time to reign it back in, and to calm it down. But the truth is I have so enjoyed my verbal freedom at the excuse of my losses and illnesses and broken-hearted-ness that I kinda made a free form language out of it. You all know how creative I can be.
I want to go with ” they are just words” and roll my eyes and saunter off with the stomp and flip… But I make my teenagers shovel poop (see how I restrained myself) for that and I don’t want to shovel sh &(*. (sorry).
It is so much more about the gesture, the anger, the rebellion and the free will than just a way to say things. It’s a choice to let the world know… Guess what… that’s as far as you go. You don’t get in here unless you approve of my sin and if you don’t, I will keep you at arm’s length so you can’t expose me.
It is worth noting that the broad use of four letter words can easily disguise hurt as anger, therefore keeping those who might be concerned about my behavior at bay and giving me ample room and area for a private pity party. I have cupcakes at mine.
It says you or someone like you hurt me and I am not going through that again. It’s about the idea that I own a tiny little piece of the universe that I can dirty up and mess up anyway I want. Mine Mine Mine!
For me it is a warning to the world that I have just about had enough. IF I drop the F-Bomb You better run.
It’s also a clear indication that I need to get on my knees, open up my bible and get to fellowship. It means that I need to do some searching and figure out what I am really cussing about and deal with it.. turn it over to God.
Clearly, my dirty mouth is a cry for help. A deep yearning for something wonderful. Cheese cake will do. Pizza. Chicken Fried Steak..
OMG It all makes sense now. I cuss because I’m Hungry.
I have Hangry Mouth.
Stupid f*^&%&* Diet!