Pity party over here in my neck of the woods. Except I hate parties, so it's not exactly a party. And I don't live in the woods, I live in a condo with pink carpeting across the street from a church and down the street from another church. Oh, and there's a Baskin-Robbins close by as well. I'll have two scoops of the mint chocolate church, please. And who do I have to crucify around here to get some sprinkles?
Anyway, it's probably this weather that's making me feel lethargic and blue. NOT. Psych. Psych/not/not not psych. I love this rainy, stormy weather. I guess it still can make me somewhat melodramatic. But I am pretty sure I know what is making me feel crummy. It's a secret. It's a secret because I feel shame. I don't want to confess to the world right now. It's times like these that I wish I was Catholic. I would go to confessional, like, 24/7. Can you go to confessional 24/7? You probably can't, huh? A priest has got to eat and sleep. I wish I could become a priest. No sex, just communion wafers. And I look good in black and white. That's all I ever wear anyway. Oh, guess I could become a nun? But I want to be a priest, dammit. Who do I have to crucify around here to get to be a priest?
Other than feeling bad for myself, things seem to be going okay in my neck of the condo with pink carpeting. Well, kinda. Things are so so. I feel stuck, which is normal. Maybe I purposely stay stuck because it is normal, because it is familiar. And it's safe. If I don't try, I don't fail. If I don't fail, I protect my ego. If I protect my ego, I will never reach enlightenment. And who would want supreme insight? I just want two scoops of ice cream and some damn sprinkles.
I don't quite know how to wrap up this post. Am I supposed to say something uplifting and hopeful? I guess I could. I can scour the Internet for some inspirational quote and pretty image and pretend all is THUMBS UP again. But that sounds like a lot of effort and it would require a lot of energy I am not entirely sure I have at the moment. So instead I will leave you with this nun joke and a picture of creepy babies in canoes.
What do you call a nun in a wheelchair? Virgin Mobile.
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2 comments:
Supreme insight is knowing you want the ice cream.
Ahhh... Wise, wise words.
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