As a recovering control freak, I struggle daily with the inability to maintain even a smidgen of control.
No longer can I work long hours making sure everything is perfect. I must trust others.
No longer can I trust the words from my mouth, the thoughts in my brain.
I certainly cannot control my body-the twitches, the spasms, the little fires that seem to erupt just under my skin.
I think my desire for my nose ring is a small act of control.
It's my way of saying, "body, you may be pushing forty but acting eighty, you may be controling much of my day, much odd my life, but I can decorate you how I want. So fuck off."
I'm hoping my tantrum ends before I make it back to the tattoo shop....