Wednesday, March 4, 2009
This Lent, I have given up using swear words.
You know what? Forget that. I am not being straight with you. I don't swear. I.CUSS. Like an angry, drunken sailor who has missed his ship. Like a three-dollar whore who works in an alley behind a barroom in the roughest of rough neighborhoods. Not all the time, but when I get rolling I can even manage to suprise my own self. Get it? Got it? Good. Mind you, I am not proud of this, it just is what it is. Anyway, I must have really needed to make the sacrifice, because I have slipped so many times I've had to implement the use of a cuss jar. So far, I'm at about $30.00. I'm not sure what I'll do with the money, but it will go toward helping someone in some way, so that's a bonus.
Even a compound cuss-word is easier than taking the time to explain why we don't like something, or to let someone know you're displeased with them, which brings me to another unexpected bonus. Through this experience, I am learning patience. I am taking more time to give a thorough explanation, rather than utter an expletive or two and moving right along.
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