Every morning when I awake, the Universe turns the radio station in my head up a bit louder so I can hear what’s playing. Today it was “Under the Bridge” by Red Hot Chili Peppers.
This song is reminiscent of a really confusing time in my life. Kids, don’t get mixed up with someone who is borderline personality disordered if you can help it. It will only make you crazy and sad. There is just no filling that hole in their life. No matter how hard you try, what you do or who you are. It’s not your damn hole to fill and trying to do it feels wrong and brings heartache.
So, there’s that.
Further ponderings on why this little girl chooses those who cannot give her back what she gives and how she isn’t even sure she really even wants that because it would scare the shit out of her.
Now, onto other mundane items
(Gal, look away for the first two mundanities. They involve FB.)
- I am not at all into food porn. Jesus. Some days my FB newsfeed is awash in pictures of food. Why is that a thing? I. do. not. care. what. you’re. eating.
- And speaking of stupid shit – people, try to be at least a little bit interesting on your statuses. “It’s vacation!” – why should I care? Where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you with? Maybe? Perhaps you can also post pictures of your food while you’re there, eh? (/snark)
- Zippy cat is an ass. I imagine he will chill out in about 30 years or so. Currently, though, he’s an ass. (It is fun to watch him chase the laser pointer, I gotta say.)
- Duty and Neighbor Greg took the new (to us) boat out yesterday for its virgin run and it did well. Duty, however, did not. It was very hot out, he wasn’t hydrated enough and almost passed out. I am not the only chubber in this family – he has gained and kept on a lot of weight and it really affects him when he can’t move around the way he’s used to. Also, dehydration really takes him down.
We both need to do something stat about this issue and we talk circles around it as we sit on the couch and wish for a healthier body. We are lazy asses, through and through. That’s my influence on him, alas. When we met, he was into a lot more physical things. Now, he sits on the couch and watches TV.
I’m not criticizing him – far from it. I recognize that for whatever reason, my energy seems to be what makes the house go (or not). Despite his protestations to the contrary and his bluster about things, he follows my lead. And when I’m leading the way to an ass connected to a couch, he follows.
I want us both to be around for a while and feel like I can’t ignore this much longer (although I’m doing a good job of trying). Seeing him lying on the kitchen floor, red-faced and sweating is a good wake up call.
Anyway, I’d write more but you don’t want to hear my whining. Hell, *I* don’t want to hear it but, like radio station WWTF that plays in my head, I can’t ignore it. (If only I could.)