Who am I?
I am 5'6" tall ... and getting shorter every day - it is my secret desire to shrink away from sight.
I am 49% bitch and 51% sweetheart – so don’t push me.
I am a young, beautiful and vibrant woman trapped in an old, tired and out of shape body that I'm being systematically smothered out of every minute.
I am shaken, then stirred.
I am a daughter, sister, mother, wife, co-worker, friend ... and I am woman - hear me roar.
I am a bacon bringing, office managing, dinner preparing, household running, child rearing multi-tasker with the will of a two year old and the attention span of 36 year old.
I wear stress like a second skin and would trade my eye teeth for a snake's ability to shed it.
I am a wannabe writer, singer and independently wealthy recluse.
I grab life by the ass and either kiss it, spank it, change it, kick it or wear it as a hat.
I am contents under pressure & handle with care.
I put the ‘fun’ in dysfunctional.
I am an emotional escape artist.
I have a crunchy outer shell, a marshmallowy centre and I melt in your mouth, not in your hands.
I am scarcely two dimensional one minute and overflowing the fifth the next.
I am politically incorrect, inept and incapable of caring.
I am the other white meat.
I am a pill.
I am poet laureate to my own amphitheater of idiots and idiot laureate to my amphitheater of poets.
I am smarter than a speeding bullet, furrier than a locomotive and able to leap tall sandwiches in a single bound.
I live in certainty that I am the product of an immaculate conception.
I keep a clean house, run a tight ship, have a balanced cheque book and lie like a cheap rug - several of which I own, incidentally.
I am high octane, high maintenance, high and mighty and sitting on my high horse.
I am squandering my existence all the while railing against the injustice that resides between the expectation of greatness and the life sentence of mediocrity.
I am heaven and hell wrapped up in one glorious package of rose petals and razor blades.
I am an impish spark and I shine through the fog of my sometimes dreary existence - until I don't ... and then in that chilly absence, I am a bathtub full of bubbles with a cold drizzle closing in.
I am the fire, the ashes and the pheonix - the light and the dark and I make frequent apology for it all.
I am equal to no one, living in constant shadow or glaring sunlight - neither of importance nor inconsequential.
All that is certain is that I 'am'.