Masseuse just phoned to report, in a crackling-croaky voice, that she is sick. My little inside voice immediately whispered loudly: Glad it’s not me! Then the little voice reminds me I ought to have empathy, while little voice is still whisper-singing, “Glad it’s not me…glad it’s not me…glad it’s not me.”
Changes my schedule for this morning. But I’m not in a hectic state. No panic pansy here. I’m not. It’s just a little glitch, a little change, and I’ve already adjusted my written schedule for the day. Scratched out relaxing, take-me-away massage, and replaced with the word blog. Blog isn’t a nice sounding word, is it?
Anyhow, thankful I’m not a faucet-nose hacking up snot-colored blobs today.
I’m thinking I don’t have to put “other ramblings” in the title of anything I write. It’s seriously a given. But I’ll leave the words there, for those first timers, as kind of a warning for what’s ahead, like those hazard signs on the road. Danger. Proceed with Caution: Unpredictable Conditions Ahead. I was thinking (big surprise there) that could be the title of my entire blog. But then I was thinking (at a deeper level) that could be the sign for life.
Truthfully, don’t bottlefeed me the shows Love Boat and Fantasy Island, and then wean me with The Brady Bunch. Just start me with the strong stuff. Give me Jaws and Friday the 13th Part Three in 3-D, from day one. ‘Cause that’s what life’s about, isn’t it—watching out for the sharks and whose behind the mask!
You think that’s what life is? You might ask.
I know, I know, I’ve read all those spiritual, feel-good, do-good books. It was a grand fixation last year. I read 100 books in roughly eight months time; give or take a day. So, yeah, I’m experienced with creating your own reality and all that jargon. And I respect and gravitate toward the Buddhist take on here and now, compassion and forgiveness, and uphold the values of Jesus. Delete. Backspace. Delete. Excuse me for a moment, I just rambled on and on about how Jesus is not a bad word and that the religious right-wingers are to blame….and that took us way, way off track. Suffice to say: Delete. Return.
Where was I? Backup. Before Jesus, books, movies, ramblings, snot and schedules, what was my main point? Oh Crap! (My little voice’s favorite saying.) I never wrote a topic sentence! Hail Mary full of grace. Quick sign of the cross. And by now I’ve chased away any devil-worshipers and Jesus-freaks. No offense Jesus, for hyphenating your name with freaks. Amazing the power of words.
Caution. If a person can’t take a joke, he or she probably isn’t going to like this blog. Having Asperger’s and a long string of comorbid conditions that resembles one of those Cheerio cereal necklaces, I laugh to survive. Especially at myself….and you (just kidding).
No topic sentence. No great lead in. No contests. No promises. I’ve probably lost half my blog followers by now. Weep. Weep. Just curious: Do you ever ask yourself why you are following a thing called a blog? I keep thinking of the Blob (‘cause it rhymes, and that’s what’s probably coming out of my masseuse’s nose)—the horror—the fear. I’m so utterly grateful I was raised primarily in the 70’s, with all the access to horror—especially glad my mom dragged me to see Dawn of the Living Dead, when I was all of ten. Yep. I’ll post that recollection sometime. For now, just type terrifying, highlight it; scan up with your mouse to Tools, and then Thesaurus, look under Synonyms (which I can’t spell, but makes me think of toasted bread) and that will just about cover it. And I’m only referring to the disgusting sticky floor where I was huddled in fear. The movie?
Oh dang it! This post was supposed to be about rules and how having a blog when I’m self-imposing a bunch of rules on myself, like only one post a day, and don’t miss a day, blah, blah, blah, is so stressful and draining. And now I’ve typed this whole prose without mentioning rules at all. What is my life coming to?
Oh, and just one more thought, I have to squeeze in, really quick, since you wasted all this time on my babble anyhow. When I typed the word Thesaurus earlier, it reminded me of the word dinosaur, which reminded me of this funny standing joke. (Ouch, that hurts my brain. I don’t understand how a joke can stand.) Well years back, when I was pregnant with my first born, my hubby and I would sit up in bed late at night talking and joking, while trying to come up with a perfect name for our firstborn son. Anyhow, my husband’s grandpa’s name was Ottis and my Nano’s name was Horace. And together we arrived at: Ottis Horace, a new breed of dinosaur! Say it. Just try it. It rolls of the tongue and can’t help but make you smile. And truthfully, that’s what life is really about—connections and smiles.
Time to wrap it up folks. I’ve got a self-imposed schedule to follow. Namaste or whatever rocks your boat! (What does whatever rocks your boat mean?……)