Butterflies and Airplanes
I will start with this: don’t read anything into the title of this post. It’s the title of a song by The Clarks, and it was on my computer. Therefore it acted as a suitable title, seeing as how my brain has decided to end its functioning for the day.
It’s Wednesday, at least for a few more hours, and it has been an arduous week already, which is somewhat discouraging considering there are still two more days in the work week to go. Quick interlude while I run to my mini-fridge and grab a beer. Hum a song in your head until I get back, one you know, that way it beats the elevator music most people give you while waiting. I don’t have the power to my blog produce a tune anyway.
Ok back. Since you’re wondering, although you probably aren’t, my beer of choice is a Rickard’s White. If you haven’t tried it, you should. It’s pretty much sex in your mouth, which I suppose is a legitimate form of sex, but you know what I mean.
If you haven’t picked up on the obvious already, this post has no specific reasoning behind it. It’ll end up being a series of paragraphs, each dedicated to their own meandering thought as it enters my mind.
I played golf today. Exciting, right? Well, normally, yes, but today was awful. For some reason I seem to be getting worse as the season wears on, and it’s frustrating. I’m not great, but I’ve watched my handicap go from single digits to double digits, and I’m not impressed.
I miss my friend Terri. We were never that close in the first place, but we shared a few common beliefs that, in my mind, brought us together. I talk to her often, albeit on MSN, I just wish I knew her sooner. There aren’t a lot of people in the female universe that can be categorized as “one of the good ones” but she’s at the top of that list. She should know that…and now she does.
September is literally knocking on my door. Not literally, of course, but it might as well be. It’s a strange September; I’m not going back to school. I graduated this spring, and for the first time in an abundance of years, school is no longer part of my life. It’s a strange feeling, and I don’t know how it will affect me when it actually hits home.
Work sucks this week. End of thought.
I’ve decided I need to go on a vacation. The thing with me is that the notion of “vacation” doesn’t illicit images of palm trees and sand. Rather it brings about images of cottages and lakes, mountains and snow, baseball fields and a cool autumn breeze. Just about everyone I know doesn’t understand this about me. It’s cool though, I enjoy not being understood all the time. I think that would be boring.
If it’s possible to drink too many Starbucks coffee’s in a day, then I do it.
I’m a little annoyed that I’m unable to put together a coherent, somewhat-themed post that actually incorporates some type of flow and continuity to it.
If you’re interested in reading what I think is a great sports column, at least in the form it was written, check out next week’s edition of The Brock Press. If you can’t get your hands on a hard copy, which you undoubtedly can’t, check it out online … www.brockpress.com and go to the sport section. You’ll know which one it is.
I’m tired. Goodnight.
