Hello! Meet Muffitt, My Mailbox

Hello! Meet Muffitt, My Mailbox

Hello! Meet Muffitt, My Mailbox

“Out of all the bad, I am still here. I can get angry again. Anger is my life jacket. It helps me move out of the house, even if it is just to walk to the mailbox.. Oops forgot. Our mailbox was hit by a car last Wednesday. Gotta laugh, hysterically, insanely, still, I gotta laugh. ”

I wrote the above paragraph to a friend. Then I copied it out and pasted it here.

Why? I asked myself that question. Why is it when I’m at my lowest, the ceiling falls in my coffee? Or in the middle of a shower, right when I’m full of soap; the water stops.
Why do all the bills come in the day I don’t have a penny in my checking account?
Or, the cat upchucks in my shoes? Why does the cable go out at the end of a three hour movie; those last important five minutes?

Silly, simply, stupid things that happen, that pile up, one upon the other until I just have to scream, “No more! Stop running over my mailbox!”

You may be reading this thinking, what is she complaining about, worse has happened to me, to my neighbors, to the world.

I can’t argue with that. –Well, I could, but, I won’t.-

Most people, me included tend to down play problems. Like. “Just a cold,” means, “pneumonia.” “Just a scratch,” means, “watch out that arms about to fall off!”

We down play our health so we don’t show weakness. We hide our problems, then wonder why we have ulcers.

Laughter helps alleviate some of that stress. Real, gut laughing is the best. You known the laughter that hurts your sides and you nearly pee your pants. It’s hard to get into that place as an adult. Right? Maybe.

I remember watching an old movie, where a man was pretending to be insane. He explained that no one bothers an insane person. There are afraid, if they kill an insane person, the evil spirits will take up residence in them.

Hmmm.

There is a little known fact if you walk through a crowed grocery store, talking to your self, and your groceries. People will get out of your way.

“Hello, little bag of chips do you know which way the egg man has gone. We need to find him, he has good omelets.”

I have to admit, I did this. And, yes, the seas parted and I got through a crowed grocery store on a Saturday afternoon in thirty minutes.

If standing by my mailbox, using it as a ventriloquists dummy, could stop people from running into it; I would paint a face on my mailbox, and call it Muffitt.

1978 battlestar galactica reference…

Published in: on January 24, 2009 at 7:34 am  Leave a Comment