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Broke Wife, Big City
You will not defeat me
By Aprill Brandon
I always assumed I would have an arch nemesis someday. My personality
kind of demands it. Obviously it would be someone who was cool and
awesome, someone worthy of battling a badass antihero with a heart of
gold such as myself. But also clearly someone with less wit and less
awesome hair.
Imagine my surprise, then, when my arch nemesis turned out to be the sun.
Oh yeah. Let’s talk about polymorphic light eruption, kids. First, of
course, by discussing what polymorphic light eruption sounds like:
A mildly successful electro pop duo.
A phrase shouted out by the Power Rangers.
Part of a convoluted plot in a sci-fi novel.
How forest fires on distant planets start.
What pretentious yet smart people call volcanic activity.
A cool space thing NASA discovered that you hear at the end of the morning news segment.
A horrifying space thing NASA discovered that you hear at the beginning of the morning news segment.
Now let’s discuss what polymorphic light eruption actually is:
Stupid people who develop a stupid allergy to the stupid sun out of nowhere.
It started last spring. I thought it was a fluke but then it happened
again this year. It normally happens on the chest or the arms but I am
one of the super lucky rare ones where I get the rash on my face. You
know “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark”? The scene where
they open the ark of the covenant and it melts that Nazi’s face off?
I’m like that dude three seconds into the scene but without the relief
of my face ever actually melting off. Or of the release of eventual
sweet, sweet death. I just have to sit here with my face rash, all red
and itchy and poofy and on fire. The good news is that after the rash
goes away, which it only does if I avoid the sun for two weeks, it will
likely come roaring back whenever I happen to see the sun again. The
even better news is that this will now likely happen every spring and
summer until I die.
There aren’t marches for this skin disease. Probably because it’s mild
and none of us who have it can be marching outside in the sun that long
anymore. There is no cure and not much in the way of treatment.
Probably because the universe is cruel and unfair and dumb and I hate
it.
So it just really, really sucks and makes summer suck. Especially this
summer. The summer of 2020, which was going SO WELL ANYWAY.
I love two things (besides my children and husband and fried cheese and
blah, blah, blah). Those two things are running and going to the beach.
Two things that are all the more important during this crap show of a
year, since they are two things I can do outside and, as long as I
avoid popular spots, without many people around. They are also, of
course, two things that make it almost impossible to avoid the sun.
So, at this point, all I have left to say is, nice try, 2020. But you
will not defeat me. No matter how many murder hornets, chicken sandwich
wars, global pandemics, quarantines, racists, bigots, homophobics,
economy crashes, vaccine conspiracy theories, entire continents set on
fire, World War III threats, armed protesters demanding haircuts,
actual alien footage, “Tiger King” documentaries you throw out. Nor
will you defeat me by turning my personal world into that level in
Super Mario Bros. 3 where the sun literally tries to kill you.
You. Will. Not. Defeat. Me.
And do you know why? Because humans are nothing if not adaptable. That
is what we do best, in fact. That is why we are survivors.
We adapt.
So I will sit inside with my volcano face and I will keep writing and I
will do my daily run at 4 a.m. to avoid the stupid murderous sun. And I
will go to the beach. You hear me? I’m going to the beach and I will
dress like Morticia Addams and I will totally pull the look off. And
I’m going to snag bits and pieces of happiness whenever possible. I’m
going to love what I should love more and ignore what I should ignore
more and speak up against what is wrong more and support those who need
my support right now.
Because you will not defeat me this year, 2020. I eat threats of World War III for breakfast.
Better luck next year.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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