I've been a complaining sodding whore for the last couple of days, have I not? And so, in an attempt to redeem myself from whenst you have shelved my whingey self, I have decided to have an upbeat banter today. In prayer form. Sometimes we ought to be thankful, I feel.
So, here goes...
While I was a little upset with You about the creation of the bus the other day, I realised that perhaps You had not intended real humans to travel therein, and so I am thankful to You for buses, particularly because, as a result of this particular creation, You have housed my internet imposter gran (GrannyPants) and her digitally challenged husband. But could You kindly put warnings on buses as You continue to create interesting hippie homes, that humans should not, in fact, go inside them whilst they are attempting to move through streets. I'd be awfully thankful if You could.
And thanks must go to You for Your invention of the padded bra. That was a real cracker - well done. And I'm most impressed by this creation because they are a two-fold life-saver. On/in the one hand, they certainly do save a flat-chested Mary, like me, a particular amount of face. Of course, when the bra comes off, the viewer of the wares within the bra might gasp something along the lines of, "What the? Are you a? Where'd they go?" But I'm okay with that. You know I prefer them when they're drunk anyway. Or at least I keep telling myself that. So cheers for the instant extra two cups. They go a long way. (PS Could You start making wine bottles the same way? Like each bottle comes with an extra two glasses. You of all, um, people? - well, you were once a person - deities?, yup, deities should know how much I like an extra tipple or two. So I'll be expecting that on the shelves next time I hit the bottle store, right?)
But also, Your creation there has saved my face more times than I'd like to admit. You know, what with Your decision to turn summer off, I'm left with a nipeel speel so intense that I've carved holes in most of my sleeping tops. I'm thankful for the small nipples that You gave me, but You know, I've learned to handle the bad with the good, and my nipple stand is something like smuggling a collection of needles. Let's just say, that when the temperature drops below 30, my nipples get straight to the point. But You made the padded bra, God, and so now, when I remember to wear a bra, people right up in my face won't be able to check the temperature off my chest. Good one.
Also, a huge kudos to You on choosing Durban as my hometown. Although I whinge every morning when I step out of bed something in manner of, "Colder than a witch's teet. It's effing unbearable. It must be sub-20!" I know that You chose Durban for me, because there are no other places in South Africa where I can tan mid-winter. You rock. Seriously.
Also, God, thanks muchly for taking Larry away from me. In the olden days of puffy eyes and anti-depressants, I was probably praying something in the vein of, "Pleeeeeease (sob sob) give him baaaaack!" but I've come to see Your logic in that decision. Fine logic it was too. You know I remember the winter that I spent in Jo'burg being his house bitch (well, of course You do, You know everything so You know what's in my mind), well the lack of warmth there really did render me a nasty person. And as a result of Your decision to set us on different paths, I no longer have to consider enduring another Jo'burg winter. So, God, I have finally come to see Your light. Give Larry to a girl who can handle the cold. Send me a hotter man (please) both in his preference for temperature and in looks. Thanks.
While we're on the subject of Larry, God, I must just request that You stop sending him to me in brief dreams, like You did last night. But I thank You for keeping me chaste in said dream. At least this morning, I woke up without any Catholic guilt. Or send me those dreams, but could You replace Larry's face with New Sexy Sexy Man who seems to be playing Sexy Sexy Mindgames with my head? You already sent me his body.
And as always, thank You for The Daughter. And for her profound change in me. And for The Father, The Incubator, The Husband, The Brother, The Sil, The Nephew, The Niece, The BF, Carlos and My Future Ex Husband Who Has Less Than No Desire To Actually Caress My Inner Thigh. And keep them safe. Please.
Much love to You, God. You really do rock.