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The other day I blogged about five nice things that I did for myself this week (you can read about that here). But, after publishing, as the hours ticked by, I started second-guessing myself and wondering just now selfish and narcissistic I must be to think that is was important to point out all the great things that I did for MYSELF instead of what I did to try to make things better for OTHERS. Because, really. There must be something that I could put on such a list, mustn’t there?

I'm following Ms. Angelou's wise words on this one and do the best I can do. Until I know better.
I’m following Ms. Angelou’s wise words on this one and do the best I can do. Until I know better.

So, after much thought, agonizing and tears, here it is. My list of the five nice’ish things that I done did for OTHER PEOPLE this week:

1. I showered. Every day. No exceptions. You’re welcome.

2. I didn’t eat beans, broccoli or hard-boiled eggs. The air you have been breathing all week has been of higher and purer quality but for my selfless nutritional sacrifice.

3. I wrote this list. As a way of sharing. Because sharing is good, it makes people happy. Unless you’re sharing bedbugs or herpes. That makes people mad. And sad. And homicidal-rage inducing itchy (or so I hear). But this list of giving, it’s a happy share. You’re welcome. 🙂

4. I did laundry. My family is currently enjoying the bounty of my labour. Clean underwear and socks as far as the can see. Now, you may think this does little for you, but if you’re ever in close proximity to one of my boys’ feet without shoes on, you’d know that the goodness spread via those loads of laundry were further reaching that just my immediate family.

5. I didn’t take a single provocative photograph while telling the bathroom scale to fuck off. No coy duck-faces or headless cleavage shots. No artsy shots of my feet kicking the shit out of the scale. No soaking, sobbing selfies while I bandaged up my toes. No, I saved you all the pain of yet another self-serving story told in filtered selfies and just told you the story. And, if anyone of you is like me (and I seriously doubt it’s the case, but I’m going out on a limb on this), anytime I can hear a story or read something that is not accompanied by a bobble-headed, duck-faced, starved-into-her-bikini-and-in-desperate-need-of-air (and dignity) selfie, I consider it a goddamn Pulitzer prize worthy read.

So please. Don’t ever let anyone ever tell you that I’m not a giver. I give until it hurts. I’m going to go and change my bandages now. Have a great Friday.

Oh, okay. I give. Here's your fucking selfie. Satisfied? I caved.
Oh, okay. I give. Here’s your fucking selfie. Satisfied? I caved.


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