Son of a…

I made a new goal today. My goal is to start cussing more.

Yes, you read that right.

I realized today that my inner me and my outer me are a little out of sync. My inner me cusses like a sailor and my outer me cringes at the utterance of most swear words.

My internal voice has had the vocabulary of a Hell’s Angel since my early teenage years, but rarely does it break free and slide past my lips. I am sure most (with the exception of a couple of friends from my middle school years) would be surprised by this. Even my husband will be surprised by this.

Things are about to change, damnit!

I have good intentions with this resolve. I figure if I release a little bit of the steam once in awhile it won’t build up to an onslaught of profanity worthy of a college football tailgate party inside my head.

The other day, In a moment of extreme frustration, I let a word slip (twice! Oops.) that I abhor. It is one I have made a major stink about when Brett has let it fly so he seemed more than a little stunned when it flew out of my mouth. And then out it flew again. It was probably the first time he heard me use it. (If only he had known how common it was inside my head, he may have recovered his speech quicker!)

So here I go. My little experiment might result in an even more abject inner dialogue, but “Hear! Hear!” for good intentions!