My feet
“Jesus walks. God show me the way cause the devil tryin break me down. Jesus walks with me. The only thing that I pray is that my feet don’t fail me now.”
I just had a craving for Karaoke. In Miami. With old friends and new friends. It’d be sexy. And I’d sing “New York State of Mind.” The crowd would go wild.
I could lament my current state. And bitch about phone calls, but I deserve what I’ve got coming to me. Fear is teaching me a lesson. Since I was afraid to call for at least a month. No more. If I owe you or anyone you can think of a phone call, I’ll put them on my list. Never again.
One of my colleagues told me today that for V-Day, her boyfriend is moving to Miami. She’s one of the lucky ones. ‘B’ told me last night, “That which makes us exceptional also makes us lonely.” Errr something like that. I could weave my way around that topic, but what can I say that doesn’t sound like whining. Whining is not my intent. And so, I shall leave that for better days.
I am such a single woman bachelor style. My fridge has wine, OJ, cream cheese, (these are the only edible items) and then the rest is filled with items that could walk to the dumpster. My bed is, as such beds should be deemed, a ‘good sex bed’ (as opposed to ‘bad sex bed’ which would consist of leopard sheets) and my pjs don’t win no points on comfortable. I’m in search of the fuzzy slippers of life (that’s the ‘woman’ part of ‘swbs’). I worked out tonight. I did hills on the treadmill as a result of my latest afternoon pleasure: 3-5pm nap/Dr.Phil/nap/Oprah/nap. So I could eat donut holes tonight. I’ve realized that whomever lives above me gets laid every night. Apparently I’m slow on the uptake cause I just assumed people were like my sister and moved their furniture around a few times a week. Wronggg. At Publix tonight, I realized that I have a grocery store buddy. I remember seeing him there the other night. Maybe I should consider normal grocery shopping behavior. I like using journals for my research notes and I’ve contemplated keeping a journal. Last night I thought it should be about my day, but that would be trite and depressing. School. Food. Shower. Workout. Food. Work. (in some order) Tonight I think about ‘B’’s journal project….keeping track of your distracter thoughts, which could just be dangerous. I’ve run into this before…it’s a very cool cognitive experiment to do…but there are limitations. For example, if you’re trying to remember to keep track of your distracter thoughts, are you priming the distracters to come up? I thought about it because I was off the distracter radar in PJ class today. Surprising I know.
Redhead chastised me for complaining about complication. Mea culpa. I don’t want easy (otherwise cowboys wouldn’t be in my future), I’ve never chosen easy (can we say, “honors thesis”), I’ll never have easy (can we see a pattern here). But I would like to wade through complications with someone else, at least for a while. The muck can be a little daunting and lets be honest, not many people think swamp hair is sexy.
“Now that you’re right here let me whisper in your ear. Now that you’re listening let me tell you how I feel”
I just had a craving for Karaoke. In Miami. With old friends and new friends. It’d be sexy. And I’d sing “New York State of Mind.” The crowd would go wild.
I could lament my current state. And bitch about phone calls, but I deserve what I’ve got coming to me. Fear is teaching me a lesson. Since I was afraid to call for at least a month. No more. If I owe you or anyone you can think of a phone call, I’ll put them on my list. Never again.
One of my colleagues told me today that for V-Day, her boyfriend is moving to Miami. She’s one of the lucky ones. ‘B’ told me last night, “That which makes us exceptional also makes us lonely.” Errr something like that. I could weave my way around that topic, but what can I say that doesn’t sound like whining. Whining is not my intent. And so, I shall leave that for better days.
I am such a single woman bachelor style. My fridge has wine, OJ, cream cheese, (these are the only edible items) and then the rest is filled with items that could walk to the dumpster. My bed is, as such beds should be deemed, a ‘good sex bed’ (as opposed to ‘bad sex bed’ which would consist of leopard sheets) and my pjs don’t win no points on comfortable. I’m in search of the fuzzy slippers of life (that’s the ‘woman’ part of ‘swbs’). I worked out tonight. I did hills on the treadmill as a result of my latest afternoon pleasure: 3-5pm nap/Dr.Phil/nap/Oprah/nap. So I could eat donut holes tonight. I’ve realized that whomever lives above me gets laid every night. Apparently I’m slow on the uptake cause I just assumed people were like my sister and moved their furniture around a few times a week. Wronggg. At Publix tonight, I realized that I have a grocery store buddy. I remember seeing him there the other night. Maybe I should consider normal grocery shopping behavior. I like using journals for my research notes and I’ve contemplated keeping a journal. Last night I thought it should be about my day, but that would be trite and depressing. School. Food. Shower. Workout. Food. Work. (in some order) Tonight I think about ‘B’’s journal project….keeping track of your distracter thoughts, which could just be dangerous. I’ve run into this before…it’s a very cool cognitive experiment to do…but there are limitations. For example, if you’re trying to remember to keep track of your distracter thoughts, are you priming the distracters to come up? I thought about it because I was off the distracter radar in PJ class today. Surprising I know.
Redhead chastised me for complaining about complication. Mea culpa. I don’t want easy (otherwise cowboys wouldn’t be in my future), I’ve never chosen easy (can we say, “honors thesis”), I’ll never have easy (can we see a pattern here). But I would like to wade through complications with someone else, at least for a while. The muck can be a little daunting and lets be honest, not many people think swamp hair is sexy.
“Now that you’re right here let me whisper in your ear. Now that you’re listening let me tell you how I feel”
posted by Cat at 9:23 PM
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