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Love Poems for Anxious People

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Hardcover (Paper-over-Board, no jacket)
$15.00 US
5.03"W x 7.62"H x 0.6"D   | 7 oz | 16 per carton
On sale Apr 21, 2020 | 112 Pages | 9780593190685
In the spirit of his New York Times bestseller Love Poems for Married People and Love Poems for People with Children, as well as his wildly popular New Yorker pieces, Thurber Prize-winner John Kenney presents a hilarious new collection of poetry for anxious people.

With the same brilliant wit and hilarious realism that made Love Poems for Married People and Love Poems for People with Children such hits, John Kenney is back with a brand new collection of poems, this time taking on one of the most common feelings in our day-and-age: anxiety. Kenney covers it all, from awkward social interactions and insomnia to nervous ticks and writing and rewriting that email.
"Kenney's sweet, funny poems about the banal and everyday—too-true nods to the intimacy of sharing a bed with someone without touching at all, or the nothing-speak of corporate communication—make great presents for spouses, friends, and work wives." —Vanity Fair

“This is a collection of poems rooted in the day-to-day minutiae of life’s little stressors. Kenney is able to capture these moments with a comedic salve. There may have never been a moment when we’ve needed these more. Just like the daily affirmation app tells us: 'Today is going to be a great day.' And Kenney, like us, knows that it is not.” --Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star
© Rick Knief
John Kenney is the New York Times bestselling author of the humorous poetry collections Love Poems for Married People, Love Poems for People with Children, and Love Poems for Anxious People, and the novels Talk to Me and Truth in Advertising, which won the Thurber Prize for American Humor. He has worked for many years as a copywriter. He has also been a contributor to The New Yorker since 1999. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. View titles by John Kenney

John Kenney author of LOVE POEMS FOR ANXIOUS PEOPLE | Books Connect Us podcast<br/>

What to think if someone has given you this book

as a gift

Perhaps you are thinking, Hey. Someone has just given me this book and it has the word anxious in the title. Asshole.

Don't worry. Just because someone gave you this book does not mean they think you are anxious or uptight or have "issues."

But chances are you are anxious and uptight and most likely have issues. And no, that is not an insult. It is a compliment. It means you are very likely an interesting person.

But also complicated and probably difficult to live with, even though you think you are easy to live with (a classic sign of someone who is difficult to live with).

The point is to simply enjoy the book in the spirit with which it was given. Which most likely was a ploy to get you to see a therapist. Also to possibly regift it to a person you know who, like you, has serious emotional issues.

What to think if you bought this book

for yourself

Good for you.

It says a great deal about you that you would carry around a book with the word anxious in the title. Especially since you are not anxious.

Oh sure, there's a little bubble of fear that sits in your stomach most days. But who doesn't have that? (Calm people.)

Anxiety is a total stranger to you. Well, maybe not a total stranger. Maybe you see anxiety in the neighborhood from time to time. Heck, maybe you have welcomed anxiety into your home, had a coffee and a laugh. Well, maybe not a laugh so much as a question. And that question was about your persistent cough and whether you should have an MRI that very day.

The point is to relax. Remember, you are not an anxious person. And you are holding a book with the word anxious on the cover to prove it.

But also thinking that maybe you should return it and hoping you've kept the receipt.

What to think if you borrowed this book from

a friend or the library

Really?

You couldn't buy this?

I'm a freelance poet, for God's sake.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the IRS to even recognize that as a real thing?

Wow.

WebMD

It started out simple enough.

A brief search.

Kanker sore.

Which I spelled wrong

and now realize is a district in India

as well as the Dutch slang

for a very bad word

and also, somehow, cancer.

Which led me to a site that linked

canker sores to cold sores

showing how oral cancer lesions

can mimic an open canker sore,

symptoms of which include

mouth pain and difficulty swallowing

(both of which I suddenly had)

as I followed a link to

the definition of head and neck cancer

which I did not know was a thing

nor did I realize I was now at risk of it

as a result of my mouth lesion/canker/cancer sore

which often causes

golf-ball-size tumors

resulting in blindness, lack of motor function,

and complete sexual dysfunction.

Which is good to know.

Then I looked up an earache I was having

and it turns out I have two months to live

or possibly a head cold.

Eulogy

We are here today

to celebrate the life

of Martin Greengrass

father, grandfather, dear friend.

And I, Nathan, his eldest grandson,

have been chosen-

honored, really-

to give his eulogy.

Where do I begin?

Boy was he old.

Also, apparently eulogy is from

the Greek word "to praise."

Or possibly "to die."

I'm not sure, as I just looked that one up

on my phone.

If I appear a bit nervous

it's because I am.

The thing is

I have never given a eulogy.

But I wrote something last night

and put it on my desk

next to the work presentation

I have later today

to our agency's Coffee Mate client.

And so what I have here

is, in fact, my Coffee Mate presentation.

The irony, of course, is that Martin loved Coffee Mate.

The original flavor

but also French vanilla, Irish crme,

and our newest flavor,

hazelnut.

I would now like to open it up for questions

about Martin

as well as Coffee Mate's marketing strategy for Q4.

Here comes someone whose name I should know

We have met so many times

you and I.

And yet I have no idea

what your name is

as I stand

frozen

inane grin on my face.

Do you have a name?

Here you come

smiling

calling my name

as well as the names of my wife

children

and dog, Fortinbras.

Which I kind of can't believe you remember.

My God, you're almost here.

And I will need to introduce you

to the person next to me

whose name may be Beth. Or Valentina. I'm not sure.

Here's a quick thought.

Not about your name

but about the urge I have right now

to just start running.

That would be a weird thing to do, though,

at a children's birthday party.

But not as weird as what I do.

Which is stuff two cupcakes

into my mouth

so as not to be able to speak

but almost immediately choke

spewing frosting

on your face.

Ohmigod, Alan, Beth/Valentina shouts.

Alan.

His name is Alan.

Which I will now never forget.

Am I meditating yet?

Am I doing this right

sitting here

cross-legged

trying to empty my mind

or clear my mind

or not think

or just be.

I forget which.

The thoughts aren't real

according to the voice

on the meditation app.

They're just clouds floating by.

Wait. Does that mean it's going to rain?

Whoops.

Watch them go by.

Soft, floating clouds.

Smile at the clouds.

Fake smile. Sadness.

Whoops.

Breathe.

Be.

Be late for work.

Get fired.

Never work again.

Become homeless and die on the streets in your own filth.

Or balloons, the voice says.

Thoughts are like balloons.

Gently pop the thought.

But if you pop a balloon

the sound is very loud and makes children cry.

I hate that sound.

Will I ever have children?

Sometimes I am impotent in the bedroom.

Deep breath.

Day one, completed.

Honest date

Kate?

Yes. Hi. Adam?

Yeah. Hey.

Hey.

Wow. So.

I don't know how to start a conversation.

You have beautiful breasts.

Do you want a drink?

A beer would be great.

I'm having beer, too. Ha. You're shorter than I imagined. So nervous.

Ha. Are you laughing at me? I hate my own face. Have you been here before?

To this bar? No. Nope. So Tina tells me you're in marketing? Do you like that?

I hate it. But I'm too afraid to leave because I have no self-esteem. You?

I'm not really sure what my company does. Sometimes at work I just sit in the stall in the ladies' room and cry.

My penis is small and shaped weird and looks like a baby turtle. I heard it's supposed to snow later. I like snow.

I love snow. I hate sex though. So . . . That's a nice watch.

Thanks. It was incredibly expensive and I regretted buying it almost immediately. I bought it to feel love I never received from my mother. But it is water resistant.

I hate my sister so much.

Want to share an appetizer? I use masturbation to avoid anxiety.

Sure. I'm going to stay seated, though, because I like to punch my thighs in the face, if that makes sense.

Okay. Did I mention I'm terrified of public bathrooms?

This is so much worse than I thought it would be. Tequila?

Sounds good.

A friend hasn't texted me back yet and I am totally fine with that

It's fine. She's busy. Who isn't busy?

It's just that it's been a few days

and it was an awesome picture

of my appetizer

at a restaurant.

Whatever.

Weird though.

She could have at least hearted it.

I mean, it's a nice photo if you like arugula (which she does).

It's fine. Is it though?

Two days. Nothing. Well, a day and a half, technically.

And she definitely saw it.

Read. The text said Read.

So I know she read it.

And then ignored it.

Or laughed.

Laughed at my photo of my appetizer which,

sure, appeared to just be arugula, but it also had beets and shaved Parmesan.

And now I'm an asshole.

Maybe this nice-person faade was total crap.

I should have trusted my gut when I initially liked her

but then wondered if she was too nice.

She's a horrible person.

And I should tell her that.

Wait.

A text from her. Finally.

So hey. My grandmother died.

That would explain things.

Still. Commenting on my salad would have killed her?

Incredibly relaxed at the beach with the kids

Look at me

relaxed

at the beach

with the kids

slathered in sunscreen

as I sit huddled under an umbrella

large hat

and T-shirt

hiding all skin from the sun

which I am enjoying

but also deeply aware of its cancer-causing rays.

The ocean looks lovely

but also deadly.

Riptides jellyfish sharks

German submarines.

Well. Not for some time now. But still.

Get away from the water! I scream at the children

without realizing I was going to scream.

This is so much fun. The beach.

Sand in my sandwich.

I have forgotten my sunglasses

and my retinas feel like they are melting.

Traffic home will be bad.

I saw a T-shirt once.

Life's a beach. And then you die.

It might have said life's a bitch. Not beach.

I have bad vision.

Which, come to think of it, could also be glaucoma.

Old friends

I am having a party

at home

alone

and so many of my old friends are here.

Anxiety, look at you sweating.

Say hello to my good friend Embarrassment.

I think you both met in junior high.

And over here by himself

facing the wall

is my friend Shame.

And there

unaware

that his fly is down

and cream cheese is on his face

is my dear friend

Awkward Moment.

And what a treat!

Self-loathing just walked in.

I haven't seen you since I looked in the mirror this morning.

And you brought Regret.

I wish you hadn't.

That was a joke.

Job interview thank-you note

Thank you again

for taking the time

to meet with me this morning.

And also respecting my schedule

by cutting our thirty-minute interview

to just seven minutes.

I am glad you were able to see

in that remarkably short window

how much I would love the opportunity

to work for your company.

I would also like to apologize

again

for complimenting the photo

of your grandmother

on your desk.

I did not realize that she was

in fact

your wife.

I should add that I often laugh

when I am nervous

which was why I was laughing

as I was escorted from the building.

I look forward to hearing from you.

My condolences (and a few other things)

I am so sorry for your loss

I said to the family members

when I finally made it

to the front of the line.

And I was.

I was also sorry

that the line was so long

which I also mentioned.

By mistake.

How it had been, like,

Forty-five minutes and my legs

were killing me.

I should not have used the phrase killing me.

But the casket was open

and I was sure I saw something move

and was briefly startled

in the way seeing a ghost can startle you.

Or make you almost wet yourself.

The problem was I mentioned that too.

Also that I almost wet myself (which I may have a bit)

because I thought I saw the body moving.

(Turns out it didn't.)

In fairness

they had already been crying a bit

before I got to the front of the line.

Though perhaps not quite so loudly.

Have a nice day

At school drop-off

one of the moms said

casually

"Have a nice day!"

And I thought

What the hell did she mean by that?

Does she think I don't have nice days?

Was she being sarcastic?

Does she not think I'm nice?

She kind of hit the word day

as if to say

Have a nice day, you freak.

Did I say something wrong?

Why did she use the word nice?

Does she think my days aren't normally nice?

Maybe it was the have.

Have a nice day.

What does that even mean?

Like I don't have any purpose to my days?

I'll tell you what I have now.

I have a headache and a pit in my stomach

thanks to that bomb you just dropped on me.

So thanks for that.

You have a nice day too!

That's what I should have said.

Teacher's note home about the upcoming second-grade field trip

We are so excited about the upcoming field trip.

A few gentle reminders.

The bus will leave promptly at 8:20am.

Children arriving later than 8:20am will not be allowed on the bus.

It is imperative that no one brings anything that has nuts.

I'm not kidding. Don't do it. I swear to God.

This includes anything with the word nuts

even if it is a child's stuffy named "Peanut."

(That stuffy has been confiscated.)

Also eggs or any egg product or anything made with eggs or egg-shaped toys.

No dairy.

Nothing with sugar or sugar substitutes.

No store-bought fruit.

There will be no plastic on the bus.

This includes plastic bags, plastic water bottles, plastic toys.

There will be no speaking on the bus.

Children who speak on the bus will be removed from the bus and left by the side of the road.

The trip to the museum is approximately twenty minutes in length.

Due to liability, at no point will the children be allowed in the museum.

They can look at the museum from a distance of no closer than one hundred feet.

No photos or drawings.

Any child who sings will be punished.

Thank you and we are so excited!

Today is going to be a great day

I know that because

that's what my daily affirmation app says.

Ping!

Today is going to be a great day, Helen!

It knows my name

and uses exclamation points

which annoy me a little.

So far, though,

today has kind of sucked.

Yesterday my affirmation said

I love and accept myself!

Which, I have to admit, did not pan out.

(I didn't and I don't.)

The day before that was

I can handle anything life throws at me.

Well, that's true.

If the line had continued

. . . by crying and curling into a ball under my desk at work.

I have some ideas for daily affirmations.

I will wet myself a bit when a car tailgates me and leans on the horn, surprising me.

Or

If you see someone you know and they haven't seen you, hiding behind a bush is perfectly acceptable behavior.

About

In the spirit of his New York Times bestseller Love Poems for Married People and Love Poems for People with Children, as well as his wildly popular New Yorker pieces, Thurber Prize-winner John Kenney presents a hilarious new collection of poetry for anxious people.

With the same brilliant wit and hilarious realism that made Love Poems for Married People and Love Poems for People with Children such hits, John Kenney is back with a brand new collection of poems, this time taking on one of the most common feelings in our day-and-age: anxiety. Kenney covers it all, from awkward social interactions and insomnia to nervous ticks and writing and rewriting that email.

Praise

"Kenney's sweet, funny poems about the banal and everyday—too-true nods to the intimacy of sharing a bed with someone without touching at all, or the nothing-speak of corporate communication—make great presents for spouses, friends, and work wives." —Vanity Fair

“This is a collection of poems rooted in the day-to-day minutiae of life’s little stressors. Kenney is able to capture these moments with a comedic salve. There may have never been a moment when we’ve needed these more. Just like the daily affirmation app tells us: 'Today is going to be a great day.' And Kenney, like us, knows that it is not.” --Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star

Author

© Rick Knief
John Kenney is the New York Times bestselling author of the humorous poetry collections Love Poems for Married People, Love Poems for People with Children, and Love Poems for Anxious People, and the novels Talk to Me and Truth in Advertising, which won the Thurber Prize for American Humor. He has worked for many years as a copywriter. He has also been a contributor to The New Yorker since 1999. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. View titles by John Kenney

Media

John Kenney author of LOVE POEMS FOR ANXIOUS PEOPLE | Books Connect Us podcast<br/>

Excerpt

What to think if someone has given you this book

as a gift

Perhaps you are thinking, Hey. Someone has just given me this book and it has the word anxious in the title. Asshole.

Don't worry. Just because someone gave you this book does not mean they think you are anxious or uptight or have "issues."

But chances are you are anxious and uptight and most likely have issues. And no, that is not an insult. It is a compliment. It means you are very likely an interesting person.

But also complicated and probably difficult to live with, even though you think you are easy to live with (a classic sign of someone who is difficult to live with).

The point is to simply enjoy the book in the spirit with which it was given. Which most likely was a ploy to get you to see a therapist. Also to possibly regift it to a person you know who, like you, has serious emotional issues.

What to think if you bought this book

for yourself

Good for you.

It says a great deal about you that you would carry around a book with the word anxious in the title. Especially since you are not anxious.

Oh sure, there's a little bubble of fear that sits in your stomach most days. But who doesn't have that? (Calm people.)

Anxiety is a total stranger to you. Well, maybe not a total stranger. Maybe you see anxiety in the neighborhood from time to time. Heck, maybe you have welcomed anxiety into your home, had a coffee and a laugh. Well, maybe not a laugh so much as a question. And that question was about your persistent cough and whether you should have an MRI that very day.

The point is to relax. Remember, you are not an anxious person. And you are holding a book with the word anxious on the cover to prove it.

But also thinking that maybe you should return it and hoping you've kept the receipt.

What to think if you borrowed this book from

a friend or the library

Really?

You couldn't buy this?

I'm a freelance poet, for God's sake.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the IRS to even recognize that as a real thing?

Wow.

WebMD

It started out simple enough.

A brief search.

Kanker sore.

Which I spelled wrong

and now realize is a district in India

as well as the Dutch slang

for a very bad word

and also, somehow, cancer.

Which led me to a site that linked

canker sores to cold sores

showing how oral cancer lesions

can mimic an open canker sore,

symptoms of which include

mouth pain and difficulty swallowing

(both of which I suddenly had)

as I followed a link to

the definition of head and neck cancer

which I did not know was a thing

nor did I realize I was now at risk of it

as a result of my mouth lesion/canker/cancer sore

which often causes

golf-ball-size tumors

resulting in blindness, lack of motor function,

and complete sexual dysfunction.

Which is good to know.

Then I looked up an earache I was having

and it turns out I have two months to live

or possibly a head cold.

Eulogy

We are here today

to celebrate the life

of Martin Greengrass

father, grandfather, dear friend.

And I, Nathan, his eldest grandson,

have been chosen-

honored, really-

to give his eulogy.

Where do I begin?

Boy was he old.

Also, apparently eulogy is from

the Greek word "to praise."

Or possibly "to die."

I'm not sure, as I just looked that one up

on my phone.

If I appear a bit nervous

it's because I am.

The thing is

I have never given a eulogy.

But I wrote something last night

and put it on my desk

next to the work presentation

I have later today

to our agency's Coffee Mate client.

And so what I have here

is, in fact, my Coffee Mate presentation.

The irony, of course, is that Martin loved Coffee Mate.

The original flavor

but also French vanilla, Irish crme,

and our newest flavor,

hazelnut.

I would now like to open it up for questions

about Martin

as well as Coffee Mate's marketing strategy for Q4.

Here comes someone whose name I should know

We have met so many times

you and I.

And yet I have no idea

what your name is

as I stand

frozen

inane grin on my face.

Do you have a name?

Here you come

smiling

calling my name

as well as the names of my wife

children

and dog, Fortinbras.

Which I kind of can't believe you remember.

My God, you're almost here.

And I will need to introduce you

to the person next to me

whose name may be Beth. Or Valentina. I'm not sure.

Here's a quick thought.

Not about your name

but about the urge I have right now

to just start running.

That would be a weird thing to do, though,

at a children's birthday party.

But not as weird as what I do.

Which is stuff two cupcakes

into my mouth

so as not to be able to speak

but almost immediately choke

spewing frosting

on your face.

Ohmigod, Alan, Beth/Valentina shouts.

Alan.

His name is Alan.

Which I will now never forget.

Am I meditating yet?

Am I doing this right

sitting here

cross-legged

trying to empty my mind

or clear my mind

or not think

or just be.

I forget which.

The thoughts aren't real

according to the voice

on the meditation app.

They're just clouds floating by.

Wait. Does that mean it's going to rain?

Whoops.

Watch them go by.

Soft, floating clouds.

Smile at the clouds.

Fake smile. Sadness.

Whoops.

Breathe.

Be.

Be late for work.

Get fired.

Never work again.

Become homeless and die on the streets in your own filth.

Or balloons, the voice says.

Thoughts are like balloons.

Gently pop the thought.

But if you pop a balloon

the sound is very loud and makes children cry.

I hate that sound.

Will I ever have children?

Sometimes I am impotent in the bedroom.

Deep breath.

Day one, completed.

Honest date

Kate?

Yes. Hi. Adam?

Yeah. Hey.

Hey.

Wow. So.

I don't know how to start a conversation.

You have beautiful breasts.

Do you want a drink?

A beer would be great.

I'm having beer, too. Ha. You're shorter than I imagined. So nervous.

Ha. Are you laughing at me? I hate my own face. Have you been here before?

To this bar? No. Nope. So Tina tells me you're in marketing? Do you like that?

I hate it. But I'm too afraid to leave because I have no self-esteem. You?

I'm not really sure what my company does. Sometimes at work I just sit in the stall in the ladies' room and cry.

My penis is small and shaped weird and looks like a baby turtle. I heard it's supposed to snow later. I like snow.

I love snow. I hate sex though. So . . . That's a nice watch.

Thanks. It was incredibly expensive and I regretted buying it almost immediately. I bought it to feel love I never received from my mother. But it is water resistant.

I hate my sister so much.

Want to share an appetizer? I use masturbation to avoid anxiety.

Sure. I'm going to stay seated, though, because I like to punch my thighs in the face, if that makes sense.

Okay. Did I mention I'm terrified of public bathrooms?

This is so much worse than I thought it would be. Tequila?

Sounds good.

A friend hasn't texted me back yet and I am totally fine with that

It's fine. She's busy. Who isn't busy?

It's just that it's been a few days

and it was an awesome picture

of my appetizer

at a restaurant.

Whatever.

Weird though.

She could have at least hearted it.

I mean, it's a nice photo if you like arugula (which she does).

It's fine. Is it though?

Two days. Nothing. Well, a day and a half, technically.

And she definitely saw it.

Read. The text said Read.

So I know she read it.

And then ignored it.

Or laughed.

Laughed at my photo of my appetizer which,

sure, appeared to just be arugula, but it also had beets and shaved Parmesan.

And now I'm an asshole.

Maybe this nice-person faade was total crap.

I should have trusted my gut when I initially liked her

but then wondered if she was too nice.

She's a horrible person.

And I should tell her that.

Wait.

A text from her. Finally.

So hey. My grandmother died.

That would explain things.

Still. Commenting on my salad would have killed her?

Incredibly relaxed at the beach with the kids

Look at me

relaxed

at the beach

with the kids

slathered in sunscreen

as I sit huddled under an umbrella

large hat

and T-shirt

hiding all skin from the sun

which I am enjoying

but also deeply aware of its cancer-causing rays.

The ocean looks lovely

but also deadly.

Riptides jellyfish sharks

German submarines.

Well. Not for some time now. But still.

Get away from the water! I scream at the children

without realizing I was going to scream.

This is so much fun. The beach.

Sand in my sandwich.

I have forgotten my sunglasses

and my retinas feel like they are melting.

Traffic home will be bad.

I saw a T-shirt once.

Life's a beach. And then you die.

It might have said life's a bitch. Not beach.

I have bad vision.

Which, come to think of it, could also be glaucoma.

Old friends

I am having a party

at home

alone

and so many of my old friends are here.

Anxiety, look at you sweating.

Say hello to my good friend Embarrassment.

I think you both met in junior high.

And over here by himself

facing the wall

is my friend Shame.

And there

unaware

that his fly is down

and cream cheese is on his face

is my dear friend

Awkward Moment.

And what a treat!

Self-loathing just walked in.

I haven't seen you since I looked in the mirror this morning.

And you brought Regret.

I wish you hadn't.

That was a joke.

Job interview thank-you note

Thank you again

for taking the time

to meet with me this morning.

And also respecting my schedule

by cutting our thirty-minute interview

to just seven minutes.

I am glad you were able to see

in that remarkably short window

how much I would love the opportunity

to work for your company.

I would also like to apologize

again

for complimenting the photo

of your grandmother

on your desk.

I did not realize that she was

in fact

your wife.

I should add that I often laugh

when I am nervous

which was why I was laughing

as I was escorted from the building.

I look forward to hearing from you.

My condolences (and a few other things)

I am so sorry for your loss

I said to the family members

when I finally made it

to the front of the line.

And I was.

I was also sorry

that the line was so long

which I also mentioned.

By mistake.

How it had been, like,

Forty-five minutes and my legs

were killing me.

I should not have used the phrase killing me.

But the casket was open

and I was sure I saw something move

and was briefly startled

in the way seeing a ghost can startle you.

Or make you almost wet yourself.

The problem was I mentioned that too.

Also that I almost wet myself (which I may have a bit)

because I thought I saw the body moving.

(Turns out it didn't.)

In fairness

they had already been crying a bit

before I got to the front of the line.

Though perhaps not quite so loudly.

Have a nice day

At school drop-off

one of the moms said

casually

"Have a nice day!"

And I thought

What the hell did she mean by that?

Does she think I don't have nice days?

Was she being sarcastic?

Does she not think I'm nice?

She kind of hit the word day

as if to say

Have a nice day, you freak.

Did I say something wrong?

Why did she use the word nice?

Does she think my days aren't normally nice?

Maybe it was the have.

Have a nice day.

What does that even mean?

Like I don't have any purpose to my days?

I'll tell you what I have now.

I have a headache and a pit in my stomach

thanks to that bomb you just dropped on me.

So thanks for that.

You have a nice day too!

That's what I should have said.

Teacher's note home about the upcoming second-grade field trip

We are so excited about the upcoming field trip.

A few gentle reminders.

The bus will leave promptly at 8:20am.

Children arriving later than 8:20am will not be allowed on the bus.

It is imperative that no one brings anything that has nuts.

I'm not kidding. Don't do it. I swear to God.

This includes anything with the word nuts

even if it is a child's stuffy named "Peanut."

(That stuffy has been confiscated.)

Also eggs or any egg product or anything made with eggs or egg-shaped toys.

No dairy.

Nothing with sugar or sugar substitutes.

No store-bought fruit.

There will be no plastic on the bus.

This includes plastic bags, plastic water bottles, plastic toys.

There will be no speaking on the bus.

Children who speak on the bus will be removed from the bus and left by the side of the road.

The trip to the museum is approximately twenty minutes in length.

Due to liability, at no point will the children be allowed in the museum.

They can look at the museum from a distance of no closer than one hundred feet.

No photos or drawings.

Any child who sings will be punished.

Thank you and we are so excited!

Today is going to be a great day

I know that because

that's what my daily affirmation app says.

Ping!

Today is going to be a great day, Helen!

It knows my name

and uses exclamation points

which annoy me a little.

So far, though,

today has kind of sucked.

Yesterday my affirmation said

I love and accept myself!

Which, I have to admit, did not pan out.

(I didn't and I don't.)

The day before that was

I can handle anything life throws at me.

Well, that's true.

If the line had continued

. . . by crying and curling into a ball under my desk at work.

I have some ideas for daily affirmations.

I will wet myself a bit when a car tailgates me and leans on the horn, surprising me.

Or

If you see someone you know and they haven't seen you, hiding behind a bush is perfectly acceptable behavior.