swear less

amazing. without being aware of it, i’ve actually been swearing less.

i think i’m just getting soft as i age.

on my road of less swearing and cursing, i seemed to hit a wall yesterday.

i was the first home and i had just come from the gym. still in my workout cloths, i decided to save some time by going into the laundry room which is right next to door entering to her basement from our underground parking lot.

i thought to myself, why not? no one is home… it’s my house… why can’t i undress and go upstairs in the nude? so, without skipping a beat, i walked right into the laundry room, stripped down to my bareness, and dumped the dirty laundry into the washer.

i suppose after i started the water, i didn’t hear that my husband had come home. i didn’t have a clue that when i would be coming out of the laundry room, at that exact moment, my sweet, dear husband would open the adjacent door to mine and bellow out a very loud and startling “HELLO! I’M HOME!!!”

my reaction was me crouching down to cover my nakedness as i yelped out in complete fear. as soon as i realized it was doug, i let out a string of profrane words.

probably the amount equal to that of an entire month of curse words that i have been trying hard to subdue, pouring out all at once.

sigh

well, it’s not a perfect progression. i’m still cursing when i lose my temper. but i’m getting a little better at using ‘replacement’ words such as ‘frig’ or ‘flippin’.

it’s the only way i can make the transition, i’m afraid.

yes, it’s true. i’ll admit that when i lose my cool at some one, i’m more likely to swear. though as of lately, i’ve really been able to control that side of me. the other day, an annoying man took my parking spot after i pulled over, signaled for the spot, and felt it was better to let him pass then make him wait as i planned on backing in…

i got out of the car and said, “sir! that was MY spot! i was signaling for it!” of course, i wanted to say, “what the BLEEP is you BLEEPING problem, you BLEEP-hole?”

he went on and on so instead of letting it escalate, i just walked away. was pretty proud of myself. i was even polite enough to address him as ‘sir!’

but the one area where i have very little control of my potty-mouth is whenever i hurt myself. which is quite often.

as i am a clutz. ugh. a horrible clutz.

so stubbing of the toe, and banging of the knee, is just a little too familiar for me (on a daily basis, no doubt).

it’s often then, that obsceneties flow from my mouth… almost and exactly like how shakespear would NOT recite his poetry. though the ability for the words to flow out can be a comparible rate.