The Joy of Cursing

I never enjoyed driving.  I am grateful to my husband as he takes me wherever I need to be and I have the precious luxury of focusing on the classical music on the radio, or letting my spirit fly to dizzying heights as I try to figure out what somebody’s brain cells are doing.  Sometimes, I can even steal a nap.

Seems like I always wake with a start as he slams on the breaks to avoid someone needlessly changing lanes, or hurrying up to get ahead of us, only to lose their useless gain and end up behind us   I try not to scream for that only makes things worse.  I am grateful I know how to swear. My husband swears heroically.  He does have talent for this — after all, he taught me. If you suddenly swear, like when you burn your finger, it is visceral.  It is a reflex reaction from deep in the brain; we call it the “limbic” system. When we do it, tension disappears and is lost. Our baseline, our emotional control, suddenly return. This is a good thing.

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