The mess I am is in particular disarray this morning. I woke up to a documentary about "The Exorcist" at the precise moment when Linda Blair was discussing what it was like to be 14 years old and have to pull a woman's face to her crotch and utter profane demands. Slightly disturbing yet intriguing at the same time. I'll have to ask my psychologist friends what that means.
The excessive amounts of jalapenos I consumed this weekend were having an after party in my stomach and my right ankle keeps sending me reminders that ingesting alcohol and traversing the very uneaven sidewalk in Waikiki wearing heels is probably not a good idea for me. I'll leave that up to the pros from now on.
My wardrobe selection today is also an indication of my less-than-acute sense of my surroundings. It wasn't until I went outside to walk the dog and a huge gust of wind turned my skirt into a miniature parachute that I realized I may have made an improper clothing selection. The breeze felt good, though, so I didn't change into anything else.
Free Marilyn Monroe reenactments in Waipahu at 12:15 and 5:30 today.
~J
Monday, October 25, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Un-Profoundly Speaking
I would love to start this blog writing something profound however I'm at my desk, sitting under life-sucking flourescent lamps, and writing as a temporary means of escape from the tediousness of my day job. What's my point? My thoughts are somewhat stifled.
I have hope, though. With my luck, it will all come flooding back to me at 3:00 am and I'll be forced to resort to pen and paper (since my home computer is on the blink). Universe willing, I'll be able to read what I wrote.
In the meantime, I sit here under the humming of the lights in this chair that is undoubtedly making my hips wider and listen to my inner voice screaming, "Get me out of here!". There is a marked lack of laughter in this place replaced by the intermittent whisper of workers comiserating just shy of prying ears.
I'm actually thankful for this job. It pays well, is indoors, close to my residence, and I have my own parking stall. Hardly anything to scoff at. The recent pay cut was a little discouraging but it hardly makes a dent in my bi-weekly compensation.
Oh but it would be nice to do something else.
I wonder how many people are thinking the same thing? You get up every morning, put on clothes that are less than comfortable (and not unique), get in the car, sit in traffic (I don't do this part but I'm sure many do), do what is asked of you, follow the rules, clock in and out, shuffle paperwork, blah, blah, blah, go home, briefly be yourself or vent about how you *couldn't* be yourself, go to sleep, then get up and do it all over again, all the while thinking you'd rather do something else. It's strangely comforting to know I'm not the only one in this predicament yet it's equally as frustrating that I'm caught in the current of the thoughts of the masses.
I know what I need to do. Like being caught in a rip tide, I must swim perpendicular to the current in order to be free from it. Swimming parallel will only take me out farther and into deeper and more treacherous waters. The longer I wait, the deeper I get. The water has already started turning a darker and more ominous shade of blue. Hopefully I can make the turn and swim away before a dark black shadow looms underneath. Unfortunately, hope hasn't thrown me a life preserver yet. I can see one in the distance, though, and it has risk and perserverance written all over it.
I have hope, though. With my luck, it will all come flooding back to me at 3:00 am and I'll be forced to resort to pen and paper (since my home computer is on the blink). Universe willing, I'll be able to read what I wrote.
In the meantime, I sit here under the humming of the lights in this chair that is undoubtedly making my hips wider and listen to my inner voice screaming, "Get me out of here!". There is a marked lack of laughter in this place replaced by the intermittent whisper of workers comiserating just shy of prying ears.
I'm actually thankful for this job. It pays well, is indoors, close to my residence, and I have my own parking stall. Hardly anything to scoff at. The recent pay cut was a little discouraging but it hardly makes a dent in my bi-weekly compensation.
Oh but it would be nice to do something else.
I wonder how many people are thinking the same thing? You get up every morning, put on clothes that are less than comfortable (and not unique), get in the car, sit in traffic (I don't do this part but I'm sure many do), do what is asked of you, follow the rules, clock in and out, shuffle paperwork, blah, blah, blah, go home, briefly be yourself or vent about how you *couldn't* be yourself, go to sleep, then get up and do it all over again, all the while thinking you'd rather do something else. It's strangely comforting to know I'm not the only one in this predicament yet it's equally as frustrating that I'm caught in the current of the thoughts of the masses.
I know what I need to do. Like being caught in a rip tide, I must swim perpendicular to the current in order to be free from it. Swimming parallel will only take me out farther and into deeper and more treacherous waters. The longer I wait, the deeper I get. The water has already started turning a darker and more ominous shade of blue. Hopefully I can make the turn and swim away before a dark black shadow looms underneath. Unfortunately, hope hasn't thrown me a life preserver yet. I can see one in the distance, though, and it has risk and perserverance written all over it.
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