I have a curious smell starting to emanate from me, not so bad as new. I am considering a margarita after waking up at quarter to two… with no sweet and sour. I am finding the handle attached to the plunger on toilet tanks incredibly difficult to flush, and I know where this ends up. Usually slumped on the kitchen floor tiles being hugged by an exceptionally good-looking and caring little person. The hug is real, and deep.. and it doesn’t matter that I don’t feel as big as him.
I guess midget isn’t so acceptable, but they are still just people. The character assassination that I deal with for being tall… well.. tiring and repugnant. When people choose to go that route, I can sure match wits at their own game…. But that is not why we are here. Yet.
Beyond personal experiences gained, I thought we were here to help people. This might not be as simple as we thought. That is a cop out. Not as simple, and innocent, but endearingly traumatic and troubling even when you think you have made the right move.
Regrets? I have few. I wish I didn’t pour the bacon grease into the plastic bag lined with paper towels. We were camping at 10,000 feet., I was tired… it just wasn’t good logic. No, the scadling hot bacon grease won’t feel the necessity to find itself trapped by paper towels and thin polyeythlene bags. Simply won’t work, Michael.
But no… not many. Not last night. I am surprised I am even at the point where I need to put that down anymore. I am never displeased with my actions. There is concern about the shrapnel that flies when situations are lobbed so high in the air.. hovering over our heads…. With the time…. Ebbing… ….
…time’s up!
(more with thought and candour, rather than musings and ramblings echoing my constant incapacity to confront these insecurities….)
But cheers friends….