Give me strength

Or give me a gun. Or maybe just a refill on the happy pills.

No, seriously. I’m not a violent person. At least not on the outside. Inside is another matter altogether. And I don’t want to get back on the meds.

I blame this all on the stupid plastic bracelet dangling from my right wrist, the one given to me two weeks ago as a hint to do some personal work. Knowing there was no use even trying to argue this one, I just held out my arm and allowed this piece of petroleum byproduct to share space with my sterling silver cuff bracelet. Beautifully made by Native Americans, the bracelet was slipped on my wrist as a spontaneous gift from my husband five years ago on a perfectly romantic trip to the Southwest. We found it in one of the many jewelry/art shops in Santa Fe. I don’t think I was doing much complaining on that vacation.

The sterling silver is a reminder of good times, perhaps even more selfish times. I’m a sterling silver jewelry person. A bought-it-on-vacation jewelry person. Not a rubber bracelet wearing sort. I don’t put political or cause-related pins on my collars or coats. I don’t slap magnetic “ribbons” supporting the troops or cancer survivors on the tailgate of my car. I like to keep that kind of stuff a little more discreet.

Now I have this pink rubber wristband that suggests I go at least 21 days without complaining. It serves as a beacon to all that I’m on some cause kick. it glares at me, taunting: C’mon crybaby, tell me the tune so I can cue the string section.

I’ll never get the thing off because at least once a day I complain about the wristband itself. It’s too big. It’s way too pink. Since I’ve slipped this thing on, it seems as if I’m being tested, as if every annoying thing ever is happening all at once. Even though no one reads this thing, I’m going to keep the biggest complaints off the Internet. Believe me, they are doozies.

Question is: Do I not have a right to vent about big things? Is it only the small stuff that pink bracelet is reminding me to let go?

Back to work, I guess.

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