They look like potato noses and detract from the personality I hope my upper body projects. And they are in it for the long haul, friends.
For about a week last month, I had been working out pretty regularly and momentarily believed the malleable cushions were becoming clay that would form into immobile ceramic vases but alas, I was wrong. That hardness I felt was just my period coming in.
I don’t know why I hate them so much and I am 100% sure that no one else has so much as noticed them. That might be because I am so infrequently topless, but even if I did boast public nipples more often, there’s only a small chance you’d realize what I’m working with here.
There is a bright side, though. I spend a lot of time playing with them. Much the same way Molly Shannon was an expert at extolling the virtues of nervousness by smelling her armpits in Superstar, I can convincingly extoll the virtue of procrastination by pretending my problem areas are actually a nice helping of Play-Doh. So, I’ll sit and play until the cows come home and then forget what I had to do in the first place only to realize I probably didn’t even actually have to do it and by the time this happens, as I mentioned, the cows have already come home so I’m busy dealing with that.
You know, if I’m being really honest, when I thought they were disappearing during that fateful month of exercise, I was vaguely disappointed and feeling a little bit dejected in the same way you might miss an annoying younger brother who has gone to camp for the summer, or a coffee barista who has helped “yippity-you-you” to that hazelnut coffee, “hold the hazel, extra nuts!” every morning for the last six months, which brings me to the prompt.
In ~500 words, I want to know what you hate most about yourself, but only if you promise to find and articulate the good in it. Because at the end of the day, you’re stuck with you until the other set of cows come home (or is it finally vanish?) and as George Saunders once astutely pointed out, “resistance is futile.” We’re not here long enough to hate ourselves, so celebrate the fuck out of your flaws (by next Thursday, March 12th at 12 p.m. EST), eh?