Once again I am out of clever beans. Everyday stuff seems just that - everyday, mundane, cliché, and trite. Bird stories are only fascinating to bird people unless they are truly out of the ordinary. [I mean who wants to hear how the Twins clean my noseholes and chew off my small moles, crawl in my pants legs, and attack paper with a vengeance (they were much offended by the nudies of Britney on the cover of Bazaar)].
School is school - business law is much like science. Very strategic. The only interest is in the details and we're not actually litigating, just learning theory.
Personal is the struggle as usual. How do I fit in? How do I fit it in? (I wish) Do I need to fit in? Why won't my head fit in the oven?
Maybe I'll work up a rant. I must be coming to one. The other day I cried all the way to work. For no reason. Then I cried at home. For no apparent reason. Just weeping. Hot tears squeezing out against my will. Lip a-tremble with some unknown shame or insecurity. Sweaty with pent up angst and imagined derision.
Another light-hearted post from Yours Truly...
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1 comment:
I like cats, not birds. I have a problem with critters that don't control their bowels around me. Except for babies. But then again, they wear diapers. And until they are weaned, their scheisse don't stink.
But I do enjoy your blog. A little bit too much fancy footwork with the words for a simpleton like me. But I still like reading it and thinking of my first love.
Lately the posts are sounding like you are in the dumps. I think this is because of that big brain of yours. Always thinking. The joy of self-exploration comes at the cost of painful awareness as you inevitably compare yourself to social norms.
But would it be easier to be a bubble-head? Maybe.
You are a terrific person. You will always have those emotional scabs. Just don't pick at them too much.
Best wishes, Bob. I have perversely enjoyed watching us get old together.
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