"Say What You Mean" Day

Don't you wish you could say whatever you wanted, to whomever you wanted to, whenever you wanted to? I sure do. I could take such a lesson from my daughter. She's six years old and very expressive, let me tell you. If anything or anyone displeases her in the slightest, she will let you know. For example, she started school last week and has already told me one girl in her class, Shauna, is a "big stupid idiot and I hope she goes to hell". Hey, I feel that way about a lot of people in my orbit, but I'm not allowed to say so, unless I want to a) lose my job, b) raise the turbulence level in my marriage, c) alienate family members and friends, and d) risk getting my ass kicked by an anonymous member of the public.

I might not appear to be so in this blog, but I happen to be one of the most verbally repressed people you will ever know. That's probably why I'm addicted to food. Either to keep it from saying things I don't mean, or to keep it busy chewing and chomping when I SHOULD be saying things I mean, I occupy it by stuffing it full of high-carb, high-fat, junky, sweet, sugary or starchy foods. If I were to say what I mean all the time, I'll be willing to bet I wouldn't have a weight problem. My weight would come off because I'd stop filling it with food and fill it with honesty instead.

I hate hypocrisy. I hate pretending to like people I can't stand, I hate pretending to have a good time when I'm bored to death or feel like screaming my head off. Unfortunately, one of the things you learn when you become an adult is that acting is par for the course. If they gave out Academy Awards for the "everyday" acting ... guess who'd be in line for a nomination?

Let me give you an example. Here's an example of a discourse between me and my supervisor at work, Version 1 (the way it is now) and Version 2 (the Say What You Mean way):

Version 1

Her: Emily, where's that Lawnet?
Me: Ummmm, I'm working on it. It'll probably take me a little longer.
Her: (disapproving stare) Okay.
Me: Okay, thanks!

Version 2

Her: Emily, where's that Lawnet?
Me: Uh, right here on the desk in front of me, bitch. You just gave me the goddam thing ten minutes ago. Why didn't you give it to me sooner if you needed it so bad?
Her: (stunned disbelief) How dare you talk to me in that tone!
Me: I'm not your fucking slave. Go crack your whip somewhere else.

See what I mean? I think a) would definitely come into play here.

So let me officially proclaim this "Say What You Mean" day, even if it'll fuck our lives up. If any one of you out there who reads this gets the opportunity to put the "say what you mean" thing in motion, please let me know so I can applaud you and emulate your fine efforts.