If there was one thing I wish I could do again it would be to get breakfast with my grandmother. If you could go back in time, I would suggest you do it as well. One of my favorite quirks was how she ordered her bacon. "Extra crispy. Just this side of burnt!" And she would squint and hold her hand up, pinching together her thumb and forefinger.
Lately, I feel "Just this side of burnt." I think a lot of us do. Every day the news has something else to ruffle our feathers. And it doesn't matter what side you're on. Republican, democrat, libertarian, socialist. Covid rule follower. Covid is a hoaxer. Vaxers and anti-vaxers. Gay, straight, you don't even know. Christian, atheist, satanist, Jewish. Holy smokes. There is just too much coming at me these days. Maybe you feel the same. I can honestly say that I have unfollowed and hidden posts on Facebook more in the last three months than since the time of starting Facebook when I was in college. For some, it's just a constant harassment of their opinions. For others it is their goal of strife. And yet, for others, I need to not see their gullibility. What happened to common sense? What happened to common courtesy? What happened to people that could just be people? Maybe I'm just more frustrated by the continual lack of sleep in my life. I know my fuse is short. I'm impatient. But good golly miss molly, can we just chill the heck out? Yesterday and today I kept wanting to say, "Put a fork in me. I'm done." But clearly I'm not. I still get up at 4:45 am. I still exercise. I still work. I still teach. I still put one foot in front of the other. I'm not done. I'm just this side of burnt. When I change my mindset from, "That's it! I'm done!" to "Just this side of burnt," I bring about two positives to my mind. One- I'm not done. God's not done with me yet. I still have a job to do each and every day that I am here. Two- I get to remember my grandmother. I must say, when I hear my own voice telling me just how done I am- how I'm burnt, I'm toast, I'm burnt toast and butter and jam won't take away the blackened side of me- I feel like I'm giving up. After all, what's the point? There's no enjoying burnt toast. But when I tell myself, "I'm just this side of burnt" I think about what that means. It means I'm cooked thoroughly and don't have to worry about diseases or food germ transmission (sounds more fun). It means that the fat is firmed up. There's no floppy, limp, greasy nastiness with me. I'm prepared and ready. Maybe that's because I like my bacon the way my grandmother did, but still. Have you ever had a BLT and the bacon was so rubbery you couldn't bite through it? The whole sandwich falls apart and you end up eating a slice of bread with mayo and lettuce. It just isn't as good as crispy bacon. I can stand the frying pan. I can stand the heat. I will get through the barrage of stupidity that is coming at me from all sides, because I am not done. I'm just this side of burnt.
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May 2023
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