Stress is NOT a killer

I was sitting in my patio this morning (yes *IN* my patio; it's enclosed) and a peaceful Monarch butterfly fluttered by the partially open storm door. You should know that the storm door STAYS partially opened because for several years the gutter up there would overflow and soak the wooden door frame ... yes, for years. So the swollen wooden threshhold won't allow the door to close completely. The gutter has since been replaced with a wider downspout and it usually doesn't overflow unless foliage has blocked the downspout - I've had to go out there with a step stool ... out in your typical midwestern rain/hail/OMGAFUCKINGTORNADO storms to get soaked and dirty reaching into that downspout to stop the water from coming in.

But anyway, I've digressed. This monarh butterfly, beautiful and serene, fluttered by and toyed with the idea of coming indoors. But it inspected the door and its surroundings and continued to flutter peacefully outdoors above my freshly mowed lawn. The air smelled of cut grass and summer as I watched the butterfly, smoked my cigarette and remembered that those mother fuckers live like two weeks tops!

So, I had an epiphany sitting there - let me stop complaining about all the financial stress, and the anxiety and all the nonsense ... it's there to ensure I live. I have been dealing with this emotional yoyo for a while now and at times I've felt so tense that I just KNEW that the marrow in my bones was going to spew out of me, like it was the effluent of some wastewater plant ... like the one that discharges out into Lake Michigan - you know, the one that closes all the beaches for the filth?

Who cares! If I had it as easy at that butterfly, I'd flutter from today through Thursday into some pesudo bliss before I gave up the ghost, too soon to enjoy the good things I've enjoyed in life so far.

Speaking of which - I need to buy more lube.