well. look. not posting today has gotten me into all sorts of trouble. so let’s get on with the show.
i was supposed to send someone a link to my blog, and i was like “i’ll do it right after i post something new and exciting so they think i’m an up-to-the-minute-breaking-news kind of blogger.”
well, 5 hours later, still working on this post, and just received an embittered email professing outrage and disgust at my lack of link-sending generosity. man, it’s a hardknock life in the middle east, i tell you.
and also, i’ve regained enough self-absorption in the last hour to be able to blog about trivial things for a second while rockets and hellfire are raining down in other regions. i’m not proud of it.
but we have to talk about me for a second. i’m a little out of it. maybe it’s my sympathy pains with the world scene right now. but i am feeling very awkward. like when you spell a word too many times and it starts to look wrong. i can’t even walk two steps without feeling like maybe i messed up somewhere between planting foot 1 and foot 2 on the ground. everything is very difficult, very hollywood.
overanalysis is the name of the dance, so grab your partner, do-si-falldown.
couple reasons things are awry in aparna-world:
-my mom said that while i was gone for a week housesitting, she got hives because of my absence. this is usually a red flag in most relationships.
-i can’t stop sleeping. i wake up feeling like numnuts. seriously, my brain is a bowl full of mush. yesterday night found me running away from hoodlums and/or cats on the mean streets of bethesda.
-some drunk guy whose way of hitting on girls was elbowing them occasionally during dance songs.
-i was told poop jokes are not funny.
-i had to throw away some perfectly-good cottage cheese for less than heroic reasons.
it doesn’t make a convincing argument for itself, does it?
-i am wearing britney-esque lowrise jeans to work today. i look like a floozy. actually my whole outfit looks like a bad attempt at CSI: Saturday Night Clubbing edition. write some new material, hackparna.
since britney’s a mom now, are her jeans technically ‘mom jeans?’ hiyoooo…
-i missed moisturizing break today. when my cubemate puts nice floral-scented lotion on her hands and we are both temporarily transported to a magical smelling garden of soft enchantment.
the stuff that cubicle dreams smell of…
-i’m stuck in a bad post and i can’t get out. wait. gimmeasec.
ps: my little way of sticking it to the man? not washing apples before i eat ’em. i eat the stickers too.
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4 thoughts on “I Outsourced My Brain to Crazyland”
I’m finding it increasingly difficult not to blog about the carnage in what would otherwise be paradise by the Mediterranean. I think my outrage is compounded by the fact that I can justify neither side’s actions.>>On a lighter note, I did bring apples to my office cube today which aren’t washed. Since you are living proof nuthin’ happens if you eat them with stickers on, I’ll refrain from going to the restroom to wash them 😛
don’t do it yoda don’t do it! it’s the weakest part of my character…i think my body is now composed of 90% pesticides.
Would that explain the subconcious preference for poo jokes? :-p
i’m not even going to dignify that with a response.