As I’m tooling around the house today…that being the only connection between this rambling and the column…there are a bazillion completely useless questions flitting through the sieve I call a brain. There’s probably no answers to said questions, but maybe the act of giving them ink will make them just…go…away…
Why is it, that on the days when I’m waiting for the mailman he/she doesn’t come until after dinner? Normally, he/she is here by 10am. I’m tired of pacing the floor as a form of exercise.
And where is the UPS guy with my carton of author copies for the October book?
Why is it so easy (snicker) to bleed words onto the page, yet as soon as someone puts a mic in front of my mouth I go totally brain dead? Stt…uuttt…eerrrr much? Naw, only when people are listening. Do I jest? You decide: Rowena Cherry’s August 12, 10 to 12 Eastern Standard TimeCrzay Tuesday
Why, when I planted a multi-coloured mix of morning glories, did they all come up a really strange shade of purple?
Why does mustard come out of the bottle in a nice thin squirt, but catsup globs out by the gallon?
How can I sit in a hospital waiting room all day long while my mother has surgery and not notice that my bil (the dh’s brother) is there too, while his wife has surgery? Course, he didn’t notice me either, but that can be chalked up to the guy thing.
Why does the bank use a different method of math than I do? On my calculator 150 - 15 = 135. On theirs it equals 133.75. What’s up with that math? This is some secret conspiracy to keep me perpetually out of balance. The question is…why?
How come in August the house gas bill is 186$? The dh has already been warned that we aren’t using the furnace this winter–unless he wants to get a second job.
Why do the yellow German tomatoes taste more like tomatoes than the Big Toms this year? And, ahem, where did the cherry tomato bushes go?
Why on earth would anyone put the big jug of Dawn dishwashing soap next to the washer? They know I don’t pay any attention until the suds are frothing out the top of the washer. Side note: Dawn does cut through grime and grease…even on metal. My, my, what a clean washing machine…
Why would anyone make liquid handsoap in two forms? And why doesn’t the foaming kind work in the pump bottle?
When did being nasty sarcastic and/or nasty snarky become kewl, or even the norm? Why is it so blatantly acceptable? I must have missed the step from dry Bob Newhart to outright evil.
Why are my Iclone characters all talking and moving at the same time?
And why is playing with animation suddenly much more fun than working? I love my job, seriously, love my job, so what gives with that?
A random thought over breakfast — Why can’t I tolerate soured milk, but love cottage cheese?
When did a red light come to mean speed up? I thought yellow meant hit the gas and red meant hit the brake. Who changed the rules?
Exactly how does one get a ‘clean/fresh’ stool sample from a dog? There ain’t nothing clean, nor fresh involved. Following with…when did taking said dog to the vet turn into a real ugly battle? Do they make muzzles out of steel anywhere?
Why, as soon as I decide to try the morning shift like normal people, did I lose the ability to be rational, or to think?
When does the fog clear?
Until next time,
Take care and be well.
Denise Lynn
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