(warning, possible swearing ahead. cancer content.)
I’ve spent the weekend feeling sorry for myself, not doing much of anything.
That’s done. I’m scared because cancer is scary and horrible and awful, but feeling sorry for myself is not going to make it go away.
Time to pull my ass up, get it in gear, and live my life. Time to fight, time to hope, time to do everything I can to complete my bucket list.
It is time to embrace seizing the motherfucking day. It is time to work more to raise money for research for not just kidney cancer, all cancers.
It is time to say #fuckcancer. It is time for #nerdstrength and to embrace the woman that I am and make her more like my little girl hero #WonderWoman.
It is past time of caring what others think of me. Don’t like the fact that I’m short and fat? Too bad.
Don’t like that I am loud and proud? Oh, well.
Have an issue with my politics? Jokers to the right, bitches.
Don’t like my tattoos? Oh, for crying out loud it’s 2016, my Mom has a tattoo. Get over it.
Don’t like my hair? Sorry, not sorry.
Don’t like that I don’t kowtow to your interests? Waah.
Let’s do this. Fight time. My time. Embracing the time we all have left here, as you know what? None of us know the moment we leave. None of us know what tomorrow will bring.
I got this. You up for coming along for the ride?
I know my husband is. I know my ride or die bestie is. How about you?