This Friday is weird. Four-day work weeks make me think Friday is Fhursday. I thank all things holy that it’s not. I’z not helped this week by also having an extra choir rehearsal thereby making me think a week has gone by since the last one, but not so!
These struggles will not keep me from loving four-day work weeks or extra choir rehearsals, however. I’ll gladly suffer Day Disorientation for both.
Knowing it’s the day that it is, let’s begin FRIDAY FHOUGHTS, FOLUME NINE!
These are dangerous times, my friends. The word dam that filters what I’m thinking and keeps it from actually coming out of my mouth has sprung a few leaks of late. I can’t help it — I hold stuff in until it has nowhere else to go but out, and often unexpectedly, even to me.
The fact that I’ve been binge-watching shows that often feature sarcasm, because OF COURSE I would find that amusing, probably isn’t helping.
Case in point: last week, I immediately thought of a quote from Veep after I answered a (stupid) question. The quote, by Richard Splett, assistant to Selina Meyer: “You know, I’m saying all of this out loud, and I probably shouldn’t be.”
AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION
The Powers That Be, walking in the door: “Do you have a ChapStick?”
“No,” I said. Then, without warning, “Well, no, and if I did, it would be mine, which would mean it was open and used, which would mean you couldn’t use it, so I would have to have an unopened, unused ChapStick on me. So do I have an unopened, unused ChapStick on me? Well, the answer to that would be no.”
I’d say it’d be wise if my ChapStick were made of SuperGlue, but who am I kidding? Stupid question gets a stupid answer.
Goldfish crackers (the snack that smiles back) are tasty. (Pardon my chewing.)
The month is coming to an end and I hope the weather swings do, too. Today: sweater, but no socks. Socks in bag, just in case. Sweater will probably come off by afternoon. It’s like being in a stage production featuring a zillion quick changes. At least winter is cold and summer is hot. I can plan for consistent temps.
I don’t know who’s liking all the Viggo Mortensen so that it’s showing up in my Pinterest feed, but thanks!
The shoes I ordered online are on their way. Note to shoemakers: Simply slapping a strap across a pump does not make it a Mary Jane.
I have this phrase I use (mostly at work) — if something’s really someone else’s responsibility, just volley that ball back. Note: At this point, my backhand could give Martina Navratilova in her prime a run for her money.
My introvert card may be revoked, or at least have an asterisk added next to the part that says (used to say?) “Extremely Introverted.” Last night, I said, “Taking a class — yeah, I think in person is better than online. Part of the fun is meeting new people.” WHO AM I?
This week, after returning from an awesome class that had me high on life, someone started talking about a President Orange speech. “Don’t,” I said. “You’ll ruin my buzz.”
My new tambourines have arrived. I shall keep the jingly beat at choir. I can’t wait.
I shall leave you with a pretty song, sans tambourine solo, that our choir is singing. Our conductor, though, doesn’t look like He-Man.
I’ve so done this before. The thing about life, though — similar things keep happening and you have to handle them. So I breathe and reboot, take 1,000. *clapboard claps*
I’ve held my tongue. I’ve kept my mouth shut. Until the past few weeks.
Bits and pieces came out, then a deluge of truth I could no longer keep to myself. It’s a good thing I like solitude, because once you tell people what’s really going on, they often don’t want to spend time with you after that.
Picture it: It’s snowing and then sleeting. I figure waiting to go to work is the answer. Though that usually works, today I find myself in the thick of the sleet (and a slightly incorrect forecast) and realize I’ve done this backwards (listening to forecast = my first mistake). The school I use as my guide as to what to do changed from a two-hour delay to closed, apparently possessing a crystal ball I’m not privvy to. The next time this happens, though, I’ll follow their lead.
When contemplating change, in addition to traditional INFJ (over)analyzing, I pay attention to the world around me, which I believe sends me signs. I don’t go looking for signs — that defeats the purpose. But if something comes my way, and I see / hear / experience it, and it makes my brain go, “Look! A SIGN!” then I take notice. I contemplate then what the sign may be trying to tell me and where it fits into the contemplating process.
Such a farce, a tease, a carrot on the end of a stick that was so much further away than I realized. The day I thought I turned a corner, I did — but only to get hit by a second truck I never saw coming. I was better than I had been, but not well. The true meaning of that word wouldn’t arrive in any real way for another five days (read: until today).