By Laura

I know you’ve had mornings like me. Mornings where you want to use #$#$% as a comma – you’ve seen the meme. Mornings where you want to get back in bed, but not yours. Back in a bed where you’re thinner, younger, less tired, your clothes aren’t baggy or too tight. Back in bed where you cannot feel your resting b!tch face (RBF) stamp across your forehead. Back in bed where your breakfast is both filling and calorie free.

Now don’t think I’m pointing a finger at anyone in my household. It wasn’t a conversation, action, or inaction that did it. It just was a morning.

In my office we have a cubicle farm and we move cubicles/ desks more often than we should in order to have the staff trained in multiple departments. Blah blah blah.

The lady I sit next to now has a gigantic no swearing sign. I know my commandments and number three is don’t take His name in vain. I don’t. I did once when I was 10 in front of my grandmother and I can still hear the lecture, feel the punishment, and remember the result of that expletive because my shoelace was untied (oh the travesty!).

However, there are still times when a cry of joy, frustration, or sorrow from my mouth might be construed as inappropriate for all audiences. It wasn’t until I sat next to her that I realized just how many exclamations I made – usually under my breath where only someone who literally sits three feet away can hear. And now, trying to respect her wishes, I hold back. It’s going to come out somewhere.

So my relief valve when I’ve had a morning and cannot (should not) swear in public is finding other bursts or think of how other people do it.

I find myself using an Irish accent when I say Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Makes me feel like I’m home again (I’m not Irish, but the English blood in my viens is way too stiff upper lip so I’m like Henry II of England and just take Ireland like it’s mine.)  Or I use random phrases, “OH PINEAPPLE LIPS. WHAT WAS HE THINKING?!”

One of my co-workers uses the Spanish language to say bad things. Apparently he doesn’t realize Texas is next to Mexico and there is a tiny bit of overlap between us and maybe, just maybe, we all understand.

One of my favorite memories with my friend Puja is when we were at work one day – separated by the aforementioned dearth of cubicle space. The normal work buzz was interrupted by a heated discussion on the phone. The alarming part was the accent from across the cube – it was ISLAND. Now, Puja is an immigrant from Trinidad, but golly geez whiz has acclimated to this country and talks just like me (imagine that, an immigrant assimilating on multiple levels without threat to my pasty a$$?!). I never knew she could speak ‘island’. {I know, I know, it’s not a language, but it sure is a different way of yammering than me.}  She was mad at her mother for something and that is how her passion came out her mouth.

So listen, when you have a morning and your RBF is permanently affixed, find a way to quote Disney and let it go. Speak in Gaelic, French, Spanish or speak in English with a funny accent – like Island. It’ll help. It might make you smile. It might bring back a fond memory. Or maybe it’ll lead you back to bed (yours or someone else’s).