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Daily Archives: March 22, 2019
Slow ride….take it easy. No, it isn’t another must obey the speed limit challenge, I just had vague instructions to enjoy the scenery and stay out of the fast lane. Easy enough, as there isn’t much of a fast lane on my commute these days. But I decided to take the back-est back roads on my way home. Comin’ in…well, that isn’t much of an option, as I’m runnin’ like a scalded dog to get there on time. Today, I’m praying for the one I affectionately dubbed “Number Three” years ago, because it was determined she was one of my three favorite people. I haven’t seen her in a few years, but she’s still right up there. She’s a fellow Co-op person, and we share the same snarky attitude and sick sense of humor. We used to joke that we needed a morning show…except we really weren’t joking. It’s a shame we never got to see what would happen if I let a mousetrap snap on my finger. If anybody has performed this particular dare, please enlighten me. I’m still curious. I can’t decide what my favorite memory is of us, but I like to remember all of our wicked dreams of exacting revenge. But I suppose we’ve grown up since then…
I was the girl who found the genie in the bottle a few years ago. You probably read about me, or heaven forbid, saw me on TV. I’m not much to look at, what with my unruly hair and more-to-love waistline. And yeah, my spectacles and the prominent nose they perch upon. My ears stick out. I should use the past tense. I was all those things. All that has changed now, and my looks change invariably. With every little thought in my head, actually. It’s hard to get things just right and sometimes I revert back to my old look, that God gave me, because it’s so exhausting being things other than what I am. I sometimes wish back to my old life, too, but it’s a double edged sword. I bounce around because it’s impossible to be content when you know things can be better…or at least different. I was fishing, is how it happened. I thought I’d found an urn of somebody’s kin they no longer wanted to be responsible for that they cast out. Maybe a long dead relative they had no memory of. I could understand, I don’t want no bad ju-ju, myself. I was rubbing the goop off the side to see if there was any engraving and out pops this dude who looked like Cheech of Cheech and Chong. It was clear…
