Vs God
I don’t know that an entire day of being sick and watching “super sweet sixteen” and “America’s next top model” would be good for anybody, let alone someone with my fragile self esteem. There’s something about being sick that makes you go a little bit crazy. Perhaps it’s all the phlegm, colonizing, fraternizing and damn near hospitalizing your precious innards that makes you contemplate the dark side of humanity. Maybe it’s the intense state of boredom that settles in after approximately three hours of daytime television that allows you to inwardly focus on some of your primal urges. I can’t be sure. What I do know, is that my illness is a direct result of a fight that I had yesterday, with God.
Have you ever tried to cram four dinner chairs into a trailer’s hallway closet and just about killed yourself knocking over a shit-ton of cedar bedding and a painting canvas? Well, I have and after my fourth, or fifth attempt at the impossible vertical stack, I cursed and asked the good Lord for some much needed assistance. Actually, to be fair, I said: “seriously God, a little help here?” He responded by slamming my forehead with one of the top chair’s legs. I believe it was at this point that I muttered some sort of self pitying remark and claimed to no longer be in need of the Almighty’s so noticeable aid. I have since become overwhelmingly ill, but refuse to renig on my spiritual independence, or rather my independence from THE spirit. Afterall, if He can’t stack chairs, then how can he fix phlegm?
Have you ever tried to cram four dinner chairs into a trailer’s hallway closet and just about killed yourself knocking over a shit-ton of cedar bedding and a painting canvas? Well, I have and after my fourth, or fifth attempt at the impossible vertical stack, I cursed and asked the good Lord for some much needed assistance. Actually, to be fair, I said: “seriously God, a little help here?” He responded by slamming my forehead with one of the top chair’s legs. I believe it was at this point that I muttered some sort of self pitying remark and claimed to no longer be in need of the Almighty’s so noticeable aid. I have since become overwhelmingly ill, but refuse to renig on my spiritual independence, or rather my independence from THE spirit. Afterall, if He can’t stack chairs, then how can he fix phlegm?