Crying over chives, and 20 other things.
It doesn't take much these days.
Toothpick Tuesday topics:
a sensitivity to:
chives (and the entire Allium family)
lumpy cheesecake mix
$320 parking fines
carrying things up 9 flights of stairs
I need to buy a hanky
I’m so weepy, but, still dedicated to sarcasm. So, I usually frame it with peace or a thumbs up when my friends kindly ask for signs of life. That also makes me cry, the other cry.
There’s a lot of tears right now. Whether that bothers you or not is fine, this is mostly for cathartic reasons. And also because, I don’t have the sparkle to wink, fake laugh and give you a helping of my go-to dip, or something else gingham and cute. Cbf.
I’m wet-eyed on the train, wet-eyed on the street and wet-eyed when turning bananas for 7-10 minutes at the supermarket because the perfectly ripe yellow one should set me right… right?!
As would thinly slicing 12 bunches of chives. Usually, a very satisfying job for me (when done right—sharp knife and firm slice-through pressure for a clean finish), but this also produced tears. Mostly because it’s a relative of the onion, but also because I’m burnt out. Not, pass me a triple shot long black burnt out, but lifting a box (any unrelated life box) out of my car boot makes me wobble. Maybe, call my mum. Definitely, exhale loudly 5 times. Throwing a pillow at the wall doesn’t help either, but it does make me appear strong. Yay.
Now, I really know my tears too. The diagram interrupters, the quiet glassy-eyed wipes, and the ones I get when I lean back in a chair next to a friend. Because there’s the ‘good’ kind too. The ones from listening to voice memos from friends overseas showing me their copy of the book and telling me what they love, and how reading it makes them feel like we’re in the same room. Or the ones from friends hand-pitting olives with me, lifting crates, tasting butter off my fingers, tackling large boxes of dirty radishes, turning up to multiple pop-ups and grinning at me over the pass. See, now, I’m smiling. And welling. Of course.
Can we cry in unison? I’ve discovered more tear ducts, and it’s likely they’ll be activated through more than just animal movies. Finally.
Let’s weep together.
Here are 20 other things to make you cry:
biting a bird’s eye chillis then stubbing your toe
Wake Me Up When September Ends - Green Day
carrying a couch up 9 flights of stairs
your friends turning up for you, again, and again
the thought of a dry tampon
war and the massacre of innocent people
whipped salted butter on squidgy thick bread
building up the courage to fold washing 10-days dry
your housemate folding your 10-day dry washing
wet birds sheltering together
a date that talks about themselves for 3 hours
so, you end up buying them a pie, just to shut them the fuck up
successfully plucking that one eyebrow hair
having oil stains on the front of every hoodie
a streak-free faucet
the first bite of a frittata
cuts on your thumb joint
getting the blueberry stains out of your white t-shirt
spilling peppercorns on the kitchen floor
a hug
the godamn funny bone
WHAT HAVE I MISSED? CAN’T WAIT TO CRY MORE!
