Subconscious Speaking


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Today has been a monumental day. I have realized that in a past life, I was a Paint Sniffing Addict, or worse. But for the sake of my future children and children's children, we will leave it at the addict bit. Please, dear Grandchildren, do not think I stumbled upon this information purposely, I was merely a victim of my own circumstances and was a Big Enough Person to acknowledge it. My inner and deeper urges have finally crept out FOR ALL TO SEE THEM.

This morning, I brought in a few small objects that needed to be spray painted. Not wanting them or the paint to freeze, I carefully unfolded newspapers and laid them out on my office floor. I proceeded to spray paint not one, but FOUR SMALL OBJECTS. In a confined space. Without ventilation. Like I was some sort of Air Filtering Goddess. Can someone tell me WHAT THE HELL I WAS THINKING?

This little testimonial has Drug Addict Red Flags plastered ALL OVER IT. Since I am such a neurotic control freak, why would I allow newspapers to be spread on my office floor? Or SPRAY PAINT used in my office? Why would I ALLOW myself to get the world's biggest headache?

I am not sure if this is my lungs or my subconscious, but something is screaming SARAH NEEDS HELP, SARAH NEEDS HELP, SARAH NEEDS HELP and running around in little circles.



Perhaps I will save myself the inquisitions later by breaking into my Giant Marker Supply.


3 Responses to “Subconscious Speaking”

  1. Blogger Dave 

    my dear...you have alot of time on your hands

  2. Blogger QOS 

    I think you must really, really, really need help.

    You are becoming repetitive. Progressively funnier, but going in circles nonetheless.

  3. Blogger Porkchop 

    Your right. I do.

    My boss has been sick all week. And even though I have screwed up completely and totally, I have managed to finish all my work. Early.

    So. I. Am. Tired. And. Bored.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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