Julie got the Memo

It was how we spent our nights together.

Whether we were huddled at our neighborhood Starbucks or at each other’s casitas.

We had our routine get togethers where we caught each other up on all the shit we might have missed out on.

“When did this happen?” We would screech when one of us was unaware of the latest developments due to work or other obligations.

My tribe of women.

They were there in the good and the bad, the messy and the beautiful.

We stalked together and fought together.

We managed to lighten the heartbreak we endured on more than one occasion.

While the minor vandalism was fun, it was the moments that were not planned and not at all malicious that made things bearable and almost ok.

Names spelled out on cars with Barbie stickers to moments of karma coming back and blessing us in the best ways.

“They know each other!”

“Wow. You couldn’t have planned it out better if you’d tried.”

Laugh out loud moments shared by a group of women over coffee while people just stared.

It was not intentional, it was karma having her way and evening the playing field.

In other moments guilt had her way with me.

I would sit there and think to myself,

I’m not this person, laughing over someone else’s misery.

Yet there I was, coffee in hand, chisme free flowing from my potty mouth.

In life you get dealt a hand and that’s the hand you must play through the duration of your time here.

Some of us get dealt a shitty hand and we must make the best of it.

Some of us are blessed with a winning hand, in love, in money, in health and fitness.

The rest of us have to play with a poker face, fake it until we make it.

Do what you gotta do to stay in the game.

If that means nightly cafecito con chisme then have that coffee and talk that shit because life is short and that tribe of women, they make life bearable.

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