Getting over it, Literally

There I am, lying in my bed (alone) staring straight up at the ceiling, trying to feel the vibes from my Himalayan salt rock to my left, and all I can think of the report I read on the bar in the Midwest that prominently featured a sign that read something to the effect of: any patron using the word “literally,” will be escorted from the premises, and that they would have no Kardashian here.

In the depth of my recent despair (death of a loved one) you would think I’d have better things to occupy myself with than this, but that’s the irony. Until you have lost a loved one (or two), you can’t guess at the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual wringer that’s going to occur. After a while, the body gives, then the mind, and not necessarily in that order.

So, I’m ruminating on girls and a word apparently used in a show (and real life) that I’ve never watched even once, literally. How could this obsession gone so far and wide and deep in to the fiber of middle America to cause a bar owner to literally put up a sign on the window?

This, then, gives way to my own rumination on the word itself. The more I start to think about the word, the more I literally think it’s valid for many things:

  • a comma, used for a pause in a sense (literally)
  • a period. He’s an idiot, literally
  • a question. You think I want you, literally?
  • an exclamation. I’m so pumped, literally!

Come down to it, those dark-haired, big-bossomed LA gals referenced in the media have it right. Literally is about the only non-offensive word that is used at the White House and an outhouse, what’s more Americana than that, I wonder, trying to will myself to sleep.

Literally.