Cursing and damnation, with Punctuation of praise

I'll tell you what I did today: said a couple of bad words. It was really quite a satisfying experience, and I immediately felt a sense of empowerment, as though I had rightly proclaimed judgement upon the situation regarding which I was speaking. The feeling lasted a moment before I repented of my unwholesome language. I don't like uncouth words, because they sound ignorant and crass; it's so very unladylike. Every once in a while, though, I feel the need to drop one into the center of my dialogue, almost like pounding my fist on the table. It's a punctuation, of sorts. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.
I would only say a bad word to someone who wouldn't judge me. And someone who knows that I don't ever want to be a crass, unladylike person. And someone who loves me unconditionally. And someone who knows I must have endured the gravest provocation. This is a very short list of people. I think it may include Kris, Kara, and Patti. Possibly Heidi.
I punctuated a sentence with a lovely expletive 5 years ago in the hearing of my youngest son, and he's still repeating the tale with the sort of gleeful wonder that only a child can muster. I may have scarred him for life.
Now that I've confessed to my grammatical transgression, I am appropriately shamed.

I do feel better today, though the situation hasn't changed. I'm still watching Addiction run roughshod over my son.
I got Christmas letters out today, made a fine taco feast for dinner, and visited a friend in the hospital. I also exercised and took down all Christmas decorations. This was the entirety of my Wednesday accomplishments, and they were preformed with the sluggishness common to grief.  I think the worst part about having Addiction in the family is the way it causes one to function as though gravity has increased tenfold.
Actually, that's not true.
The worst part of having addiction in the family is having someone beloved lose their personality and vibrancy to the black hole of drugs. Or the constant looming threat of overdose and death.
I can't make up my mind. There are so many Worst Parts of addiction.

In other news, I purchased a set of fake eyelashes with all the budding hope of one who expects miraculous improvement in the blink of an eye.....get it? In the blink of an eye? I put them on and discovered that they do very little to distract from the rapid approach of menopause, grey hair and crow's feet. Alas. Pintrest lied.

To sum up: I am vulgar of speech, elderly in appearance, slightly depressed, but fortunate in friends. Therefore, life is not all bad. Praise God for small mercies.