As these may be my last days in the office, I figured I’d keep myself busy by storytelling…truth or fallacy, it’s all for the sake of creative expression, emotional freedom, and putting value to free time.

-THURSDAY MORNING-

I woke up and realized there were only 2 minutes left before my alarm was set to wake me. Damn, I sure do hate when that happens. I try to salvage my last minute and thirty seconds by squeezing my eyes closed and breathing deeply. I bet I look crazy as hell; I don’t feel crazier than I look so there’s balance in the very first 2 minutes of my day, just as I manifested: Let there be a healthy balance in my life.

The alarm starts to chirp with sounds of glitter falling on the morning dew, birds living their best lives in the meadow or some shit like that, the frogs and squirrels are probably responsible for singing the lower notes in my morning siren so let’s not forget them either. Every instrument counts in the musical of nature or whatever. Anyway, I let it play while I shuffle in the dark to my toilet. After a second or 2 into my morning relief, I remember I closed the lid last night. I read on Instagram at like 2am that bad energies can travel through open waterways. So, quite naturally I thought, “Waterways; Toilets have water; You better close the toilet bitch!” Now here I am, brewing a hot serving of morning piss all over my toilet lid, myself, and all those bad energies that I trapped in the commode last night. I also read that fresh piss has natural benefits. Not sure if I’m supposed to drink the piss or let it run freely down my thighs, but I think it’s fair to say my Thursday is starting in a positive direction.

I think I like Thursdays. Mostly because I have a catch phrase that I know everyone will like: “One more day!” I usually say it with an exasperated, yet excited smile…and sometimes a slight head tilt if I’m opening a door or getting into my car.

In case you’re wondering… No, I am not a voluntarily social person. In fact, 63% of my positive social interactions are premeditated conversations. Over the years, after maneuvering through awkward social situations, I found that I have more control over what topics are discussed when I initiate the conversation…and it also helps me gauge how much of a fuck I truly give about sharing or receiving information with the other person(s). If I don’t initiate the conversation, you can bet I don’t want to socialize. I’m usually only nice because I’m unhealthily concerned with how I make people “feel”. I dislike that personality trait about myself. I’d like to change it, but then I think I offend other people…and I care about how I make people feel…ehn, it’s a bit of a confusing thought process even for me, and these are my very own thoughts. I overthink my thoughts, then they morph from thoughts to circumstances. Manifesting my thoughts. That’s what I want to be an expert in: Manifesting my divine life and circumstances with intent. Intent vs fear. Fear is scary and uncertain.

I work well in fear and under pressure. I always tell myself in times of panic “Bitch, run!” or “bitch you tryna be the hoe or the pimp?” or sometimes, “I’m too cute for this shit to go down like THIS”…usually I refer to myself as bitch with love, not malice. Bitch is a term of endearment these days. If “nigga” can evolve, a bitch can too. And that’s the motto. I’m a evolving type of manifesting bitch. In case you didn’t know.

I look in the mirror and practice smile and head tilt combos until I find the right one. I tell myself "One more day!" and head out the door to be an average citizen with gangsta dreams.