Let’s just say you spent the whole morning cleaning the house while engaging in a 3 hour mental bitchfest. Cursing out everyone who crossed you in the past week. All your beloved family who were fucking with your zen thing, despite your best efforts to go with the flow.
Slowly, as the house was cleansed, so were you. Why? Because you gave yourself permission to let it rip. You let it all out.
Great job! You deserve a margarita.
Ok, I’m talking about me. I deserve a margarita.
And a new pair of shoes.
Which are the icing on the cake. The cake being that clarity and equanimity have returned.
I rock. And I get love. No matter what.