I have been having difficulty coming up with blogging topics that interest me lately. This morning I looked on the Holiday Website today and saw that it's National Bubba Day.
"Yawn," said my blogging brain, "so what?"
"But I have to come up with a blog posting!" I told my brain.
"Well, you are going to have to give me something better to work with than that," my brain sneered.
"Oh crap, I don't have anything better." By this point I was whining a little bit, looking at the time, and starting to worry that I wouldn't have anything to post again today.
Then my blogging brain got kind of smug and said, "By the way we are forming a union."
"Who? We who?"
"Me and some other blogging brains. We want a better salary and we want weekends and holidays off."
"But you don't have a salary!"
"My point exactly," my blogging brain said, and she stamped her foot to make the point more exact.
Pondering the idea of how I would pay my brain, I suppose I left her alone too long and when I returned she was spray painting inside of my skull with graffiti that said Hummus Anonymous management unfair to workers! in dayglo orange. Damn, she knows I really don't like that color.
I sat down and said, "I can't figure out how to pay you exactly."
My blogging brain looked at me and sadly said, "I know, it wasn't really a very practical idea."
We hugged and then she said, "I will try harder in the future, really I will."
"Oh, blogging brain," I said. "Thank you. I appreciate that. Now give me that damned can of paint."
About Me
- Kim
- United States
- Getting older is not for sissies. I'm not a sissy, thank goodness. I'm a physical therapist, mom, daughter, sister, friend, and I am looking forward to "what's next?"
6 comments:
"Goodbye, Old...Can, I'm leaving Cheyenne..."
Kim, Kim. I love this little story so much. I hope you tell it to the dynamic duo.
She might need to leave the cursing out tho.
My brain seems to be in the DFW Local of the Union.
Collegemama, DFW? Here we have the VFW also called the V F Dubya where some of my relatives tend bar. Susan - J-dude liked the cursing. He learned to say Damn! from me when he was 2 and my blow-dryer bit the dust mid-styling and I must have sworn because later I heard him in the hallway stomping his feet and saying Damn! Damn! Damn!....etc.
My blogging brain is on a sit-down strike. All I can do is sit and look out the window. I might as well go down to the V F Dubya...
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