You know, I realized today that I don't know how to count.
Or add.
And subtract and multiply and divide.
Let's just say numbers aren't my strong suit --- which would explain the (useless) degree that I eventually got while doing a four-year stint in postsecondary education. (Gosh. That sounded like I did time in prison, didn't it?)
It's a good thing I didn't open my mouth to say anything, otherwise, I'd just come off looking like a complete dumb ass.
In my old age, I've learned to control my big fat mouth --- to a certain degree.
So, anyway, today was one of those days where I really didn't feel like going into work. (Though, some would argue that this is how I feel on most days.) But even if you don't "feel" like going into work, there's really no choice in the matter, is there? Not if you like having money to, you know, pay the bills and have food to eat and clothes to wear...you know...stuff like that.
The thing is, getting to the station today, they were giving away stuff...and you know how much I love "free".
Okay, granted, that probably makes me sound like some unbelievably lame cheap ass, but you know what? I'm slowly coming to accept the fact that this is my life and I should just accept it and friggin' move on.
Don't ask me why, but I monitor the moods of this guy at work. No --- I don't have any romantic interest in him. He's gay.
I don't know why, but he just seems really sad to me and a part of me kinda identifies with that look he has on his face.
Sometimes, I think that there are all those people out there who feel alone and like nobody sees them or cares about them...but I know it's not true.
Sometimes, you've got some weirdo like me, who actually wonders how you're doing and wants to ask, but I kinda feel like it's not my place 'cause we're not friends.
Maybe I should ask, anyway.
In something totally unrelated...
There are times when I sit down to write in this blog and I'm just seized with this paranoid fear that maybe someone I know --- and it doesn't even have to be someone I'm close to --- will read it. And so, I start writing in generalities and after awhile, it's like, "Holy shit. I have nothing I want to write about. I must be really boring."
And the whole "boring" tag is something that nobody in their right mind wants to get stuck with.
Or add.
And subtract and multiply and divide.
Let's just say numbers aren't my strong suit --- which would explain the (useless) degree that I eventually got while doing a four-year stint in postsecondary education. (Gosh. That sounded like I did time in prison, didn't it?)
It's a good thing I didn't open my mouth to say anything, otherwise, I'd just come off looking like a complete dumb ass.
In my old age, I've learned to control my big fat mouth --- to a certain degree.
So, anyway, today was one of those days where I really didn't feel like going into work. (Though, some would argue that this is how I feel on most days.) But even if you don't "feel" like going into work, there's really no choice in the matter, is there? Not if you like having money to, you know, pay the bills and have food to eat and clothes to wear...you know...stuff like that.
The thing is, getting to the station today, they were giving away stuff...and you know how much I love "free".
Okay, granted, that probably makes me sound like some unbelievably lame cheap ass, but you know what? I'm slowly coming to accept the fact that this is my life and I should just accept it and friggin' move on.
Don't ask me why, but I monitor the moods of this guy at work. No --- I don't have any romantic interest in him. He's gay.
I don't know why, but he just seems really sad to me and a part of me kinda identifies with that look he has on his face.
Sometimes, I think that there are all those people out there who feel alone and like nobody sees them or cares about them...but I know it's not true.
Sometimes, you've got some weirdo like me, who actually wonders how you're doing and wants to ask, but I kinda feel like it's not my place 'cause we're not friends.
Maybe I should ask, anyway.
In something totally unrelated...
There are times when I sit down to write in this blog and I'm just seized with this paranoid fear that maybe someone I know --- and it doesn't even have to be someone I'm close to --- will read it. And so, I start writing in generalities and after awhile, it's like, "Holy shit. I have nothing I want to write about. I must be really boring."
And the whole "boring" tag is something that nobody in their right mind wants to get stuck with.
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