What would I do in a world without consequences? What kind of consequences do I even fear?
Let's explore, shall we?
One of my biggest fears right now is related to money.
I'm sure that's the case with a lot of people. I am so afraid of losing everything and becoming homeless.
I work with a lot of homeless clients and a lot of them were just like me. They had a job, a home, running water. Now they are living on the streets with nowhere to go and stinky feet.
MB already has really stinky feet. I don't know what would happen if he didn't have the means to wash them. Pee U.
I don't even know how much more I can cut back. I already give MB the evil eye if he even looks at name brand shampoo or fancy mustard. When he wanders over to the big screen tv section at Best Buy, I twitch.
He refuses to go to the grocery store with me because of my coupon use.
Also because of his fake grocery store phobia. Does he really think he can fool a mental health professional? Silly boy.
So, if things don't improve (and by improve I mean me winning the powerball), I fear I will be living out of a shopping cart and having conversations with my pup as I pick through the dumpster for any leftover donuts.
Let's face it, if I'm homeless and have to eat out of a dumpster, it's going to be one behind Dunkin Donuts. Who the hell do I have to impress?
I also fear that when I lose all my riches (ha!) that I will also lose my sanity.
Hey, we are all just one big stressor away from four point restraints and a 'soft' room. I see it every day.
If it ever happens, I do have a plan.
You would think I would use my professional skills to access the best treatment and doctors and get on the best meds, blah blah blah.
If I ever lose it, I'm becoming a recluse. Take me to West Virginia and point me to the moonshine. I will be perfectly content.
Just stock the cabin with lots of cheetos and peanut butter cups.
I might even learn to pick a little (for my non hillbilly readers, that means play bluegrass music - google it).
Speaking of donuts, let's discuss the consequence/fear that has the most control over my lie. That's right, fatness.
My fear of fatness and the judgement that comes with it keeps me from really being myself most of the time. Sad.
The really sad thing, though, is the stuff my fear of fatness prevents me from eating.
I love ice cream. I love candy. I love french fries. Cupcakes. Cookies. Pizza. Bacon cheeseburgers.
You get the idea.
If I didn't have to worry about the pounds piling on, I would be eating these things every day. And I wouldn't think twice about it.
But noooooo. Somebody decided these things would be unhealthy.
If I want a cupcake, I should be able to have a cupcake dammit.
I shouldn't have to worry which wall they'd have to smash the crane through in order to get me out.
Skinny bitches don't have to worry about these things.
You know, if there were no conseqences, I think I'd hit a lot more people, especially skinny bitches. I would also be a lot more confrontational with my jerky neighbors.
It's probably a good thing we do have consequences. If we didn't, I'd be one fat heffer with a lot of imaginary friends and probably some charges.