Like Helen Keller Watching Pain Dry
I pulled up this site to post and instantly I felt like a woman. My mind mumbled out in rejection, "I can't tonight, I have a headache." Seems the past few days my creative voice has been yelling at the top of his lungs, revolting at the mere thought of posting. Apparently, he thinks blogging is his punishment, and it's far worse than being grounded sitting in the corner.
Now that I've badmouthed my headache it's gone. Why can't be people be like that, speak ill of them and they disappear? Like a certain someone at work. Yesterday she brought in her "secret weapon" for the Chili Cook-off we are having next week. The weapon itself isn't really all the frightening, at least not to me. Turtle cheesecake, with homemade caramel. She wanted us to taste it, to see if it was worthy of first place. But I think my pie is better. My paradise pie...with cherries, pineapple, almonds and coconut. Now, that is a weapon of mass consumption.
Besides, she wins every year. Last year, it was her cheesecake, only the topping was raspberry chambord. My pie got second. But like at the State Fair, it's all about popularity. Last year I was a new entrant. This year, I am Zuckerman's pig and I have an agent named Charlotte who thinks I'm "Terrific...Terrific....Terrific."
Just so you know, it's only 2307 and I'm tired. Work was rough today. It probably will be for a while. We have quotas to meet by the end of the year. Plus, we are training someone new. We should have hired Helen Keller; we definitely need a miracle worker.
Anyway, I guess that means I should end this now, while it's still "early" and before it gets out of hand. Besides, the "creative voice" bailed out somewhere around the word "pulled." I had to to wing it so I'm willing to admit tonight's blog is mere habit. But I'm trying to keep up the frequency, even if that means I (and you) have to suffer through at least one bad blog a week. Okay, maybe not bad but less amusing, like watching paint dry with your eyes forced wide open. It's either keep looking or poke your eyes out. So you keep looking because...well, no one really wants to be Helen Keller.
Now that I've badmouthed my headache it's gone. Why can't be people be like that, speak ill of them and they disappear? Like a certain someone at work. Yesterday she brought in her "secret weapon" for the Chili Cook-off we are having next week. The weapon itself isn't really all the frightening, at least not to me. Turtle cheesecake, with homemade caramel. She wanted us to taste it, to see if it was worthy of first place. But I think my pie is better. My paradise pie...with cherries, pineapple, almonds and coconut. Now, that is a weapon of mass consumption.
Besides, she wins every year. Last year, it was her cheesecake, only the topping was raspberry chambord. My pie got second. But like at the State Fair, it's all about popularity. Last year I was a new entrant. This year, I am Zuckerman's pig and I have an agent named Charlotte who thinks I'm "Terrific...Terrific....Terrific."
Just so you know, it's only 2307 and I'm tired. Work was rough today. It probably will be for a while. We have quotas to meet by the end of the year. Plus, we are training someone new. We should have hired Helen Keller; we definitely need a miracle worker.
Anyway, I guess that means I should end this now, while it's still "early" and before it gets out of hand. Besides, the "creative voice" bailed out somewhere around the word "pulled." I had to to wing it so I'm willing to admit tonight's blog is mere habit. But I'm trying to keep up the frequency, even if that means I (and you) have to suffer through at least one bad blog a week. Okay, maybe not bad but less amusing, like watching paint dry with your eyes forced wide open. It's either keep looking or poke your eyes out. So you keep looking because...well, no one really wants to be Helen Keller.