Serenity now!

That was the battle cry this week.

But Hoochie Mama?

The Urban Dictionary is varied on what the definition is (and we know the authority of TUD on such matters), but generally speaking, hoochie mama refers to a young woman; especially one who is promiscuous or who dresses or behaves in a sexually provocative or overtly seductive manner.

That’s not Estelle Costanza. Nor is it me. Not in the slightest. But this is off topic, save for the Serenity Now wail.

It’s been a hellish week. Between feeling like TWD and the stress at work, I’d give it a Sphincter Level 8. That’s pretty high, considering I work from home.

This week has been different in a couple of ways, which all contribute to such a high SL quotient. The main deviation from the weekly grind is that my son is out of town. He works remotely, also, and, like me, is an Healthcare IS professional. In the absence of the proximity of colleagues, he’s the next best thing for commiseration. Actually, he’s better because I can let loose and be full-on me. Without him to talk to, (or at,) things have gotten a little bottled up and I found myself in Frank’s state of mind.

Now I have relief sitting on my desk, at the ready, when the need arises. It may be merely comedic relief, but we do what we can, huh?

Now, a friend of mine knows I have these, or at least this last one, and facing his own stressful situation, texted me one day, asking me to push it for him. Who am I to deny such a request? And I figured it’d be a shame to keep it to myself so I sent him some audio of it. He needed it more than me at that moment. I think it helped him. It usually helps me. And it helped all day yesterday.

I really try not to swear in public. At least in a professional setting. And when I first meet someone, I try to refrain, as well. The same friend, who I only “met” recently and have only communicated with via SMS, once let the F-bomb go. It was weird because we had a conversation about cussing not long before that. In fact, we used the word “comma” in place of it. You know, like: Ten minutes into my day and I’m already using f*&# like a comma! His immediate follow-up was something like: “Oh come on. We know each other well enough to cuss with each other”.

Guess he thought I was offended. See, that’s one problem with communicating by text. Pauses are misinterpreted as offense, instead of: Hey dude, I didn’t bring my phone to the bathroom with me just now.

I wasn’t. Offended, that is. By either–the cuss word or the follow-up. But I did get to examining my behavior, my attitudes, and my beliefs about language and communication. And I did some reading.

I used to flippantly justify, when I let the F-bomb fly, that swearing is a sign of intelligence. I had nothing to back that up, except for the fact that I’m very smart (and I read it in a meme somewhere). Not just book-smart, not merely well-read, but street-smart, too. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. And I cuss like a sailor. Or a trucker, but I had sailors in my family, so I’ll stick with that. Brand loyalty.

Anyway, I read a lot about cussing and intelligence. The most succinct article I read does confirm my assertion. Now I know we’re not supposed to believe everything we read on the internet. And for the most part, I don’t. But as a woman of science, if an article cites scholarly research, I’m more inclined to believe it.

Still, I try not to be profane. Oh, who am I kidding?

Comma!