Hello You

And so it happens again; I stumble across myself on the internet. It's much like bumping into someone who's bending over in the cat food isle of Wal-Mart; when you blush and say, "Oh excuse me," Then they, now vertically aligned, say, "No problem." And then you realize that you know that person, perhaps from high school, prison or daycare--you're not sure which. But, nontheless, you know them.

And so it happens again; I stumble across myself on the internet. I'd forgotten I had this blog, so it is a good thing I was out of cat food.

Today has been a blah day. Just not feeling myself, perhaps it has something to do with all the high fructose corn syrup and refined flour I had last night....but let's not dwell on that, as I'm not ready to get rid of my favorite friends just yet. Speaking of friends, I haven't had Ben and Jerry over for the longest of times; how I yearn for them. They were such a comfort to me. We'd sit in front of the fire together, losing all consciousness while zoning out before the big screen...ahhh, glory days. Back to the pressent, I'm so glad they decided to continue milking cows and not humans, as I was going to have to completely cut it off it they made the switch.

Which reminds me....while at an AG Field Trip last week, I did learn, scouts honor, that mice can be milked. Forget the speaker and his water conservation speech, forget the horse skeleton and the fact sheets, forget thinking how a cattle shoot is very much like a mamogram machine--did you know you can milk a mouse? A mouse! Truly amazing, isn't it? (Shhh, don't tell PETA.)

Anyway, back to me. Hi, how are you? Oh, feeling a bit odd today, how are you? Feeling about the same. Feeling like you're mentally turned to mush? Why yes! How did you know? Possibly because I am you, and you are me. Oh, why yes of course. I should have known that, but, as I stated, or perhaps you stated, my mental capacities are the consistency of quick oats. Cooked quick oats, that is, not dry. Perhaps overcooked. Ya know, like when you should only cook the packet of oatmeal for 1 minute, but you defy all logic and go for the extra 30 seconds, without adding more water. The microwave beeps and out comes, in your decorative white breakfast bowl, a peice of the Gobi dessert. You understand? Of course I do, I'm you, remember? Oh yes, how soon I've forgotten...

People. There are new people in my life. Some I look forward to seeing, some are like gange green. People. Some add to my existance and some suck the very life from me. Working with people is such hard work. But then again, it can be so very rewarding. I just can't handle whining. Children whining is one thing, adults whining is another. Children whining is acid reflux on the nerves, adults whining is projectile vomit from the man across you on the train flying into your agape mouth. Chunky, biley, whining. Perhaps my day as a hermit are not too far removed from me.

If I could leave my love affair with choclate, I might actually be making progress at the gym. Were it not for my antique adipose tissue, you might just be able to see all the muscle I've been accumulating. And for what? To bench press 20 text books?

As for people, I do enjoy the people at the gym. They are a sort of 6AM family that, quite honestly, I look forward to seeing at the beginning of my day. No whining there. Just people sweating, some of them stinking, most of them smiling. I got to thinking just what an odd place the gym is. Where else can you go where it is perfectly acceptable to hang out with a bunch of other shirt-wet-from-sweat strangers?

Did you know that dodgeball is fun? Why yes it is! Much more fun than one might first expect. I've actually got a booger of a floor burn on my right knee from last Thursday's game. It's over a week old and still not going away. My skin literally rubbed off onto the inside of my sweats--gross, aye? It is rather uncomfortable (and that's coming from the woman who gave birth without taking a single asprin).

Though this gange green, vomit, scabbed over floor burn has been quite stimulating conversation, I'm bored of talking to myself. I think I'll go read my posts and get reaquainted with my own thoughts.

A Zut de Toi,
Me