I’m still taking prompts for December Days, but for blank days I am wandering around the internet finding my own prompts. Today I am making a dammit list, à la Havi
I have been working on a Declaration of Independence. Actually, it’s more like a Declaration of This Is My Life, Dammit…
Being clear about what you stand for and what you care about and what you will not put up with, dammit.
Being clear and using the word dammit as often as possible, dammit. If only just in your head.
Oh, and let me say that yes, dammit is the most important word when you’re manifesto-ing it up, and ideally every sentence ends with it.
Even though it can really just be implied.
Here’s mine. You would not believe what fun it was to write.
I don’t travel to the Continent by plane, dammit.
I don’t drink, dammit.
Except for ritual or ceremonial purposes, dammit.
I am the one who defines those ritual and ceremonial purposes, dammit.
I don’t like mushrooms, dammit.
I don’t give Christmas cards to people I’ll be seeing only three days before Christmas, dammit.
I will not get involved in all the political shit, dammit.
I pay a decent price for decent art, dammit.
I will sing in the street if I feel like it, dammit.
I don’t have a car, dammit.
I don’t miss having a car, dammit.
In fact, I might not ever take my driving test again and I don’t care, dammit.
My office has windows, dammit.
I respect the integrity of my own work, dammit.
I am allowed to have fun, dammit.
I wear my skirts as short as I damn well please, dammit.
I look fantastic in hats, dammit.
And I wear hats whenever I please, dammit.
I do not pressure or guilt other people into doing things they don’t want to, dammit.
And if they do secretly want to do those things, that’s their business, and they can get to it in their own time, dammit.
I can hide anything I like on Facebook, dammit.
I wear outrageously bright lipstick, dammit.
Or I wear no makeup at all, dammit.
I am allowed to buy another pair of red shoes, dammit.
I don’t have to keep everything everyone ever gave me, dammit.
I don’t have to pretend to like shopping, dammit.
I can spend all lunchtime behind a book if I feel like it, dammit.
I do not get pushed out of my own Church by anyone who diminishes my humanity or whose idea of salvation is less than all-encompassing, dammit.
I am not inheriting a bus, dammit.
I don’t play Monopoly, dammit.
Or Risk, dammit.
If I don’t see a need for something to be done, I’m not going to be guilted into doing it, dammit.
I will not apologise for any book that anyone sees me reading, dammit.
I don’t have to buy the cheapest version of everything, dammit.
I am allowed to retreat, rest, and otherwise spend time consciously not doing things, dammit.
And other people are not allowed to make me feel guilty about that, either, dammit.
Sometimes I would really very much rather be on my own, dammit.
I can avoid using any sort of pronoun for God, dammit.
I never call myself ‘Mrs’, dammit.
I have never asked anybody to call me ‘Kath’, dammit.
I refuse to attach moral value to food according to any sort of correlation with nutritional content, dammit.
I don’t sign up for things in the street, dammit.
I believe in decent pay for decent work, dammit.
I believe in live music, dammit.
I don’t have to be good at anything the first time I try it, dammit.
Or even the fiftieth, dammit.
I could go on, but my computer is clamouring for a restart. You are welcome to leave your own dammits in comments!