okay, be prepared, because I'm about to rub this in your face like whip cream pie for those of you whole still hold a job-- My weekend officially started today at 1:00pm. Like it does every week! Pardon me while I congo dance in my computer chair.
okay, that didn't take long before I was out of breath. So big plans this weekend, you ready? Read, write, eat, sleep--and not necessarily in that order. I've got a gallon can of Fruit-Cocktail I've been mixing with Cool Whip over the past few days that I need to finish. That'll become my main objective to get done tomorrow. The hubby will be out hunting Bambi's daddy all day, so I can turn up my music and do my own thing without hearing complaints that I'm disturbing his TV viewing pleasure with the bumps of my music I'm using to drown out his TV.
We were discussing my mind last night-whew in depth converstation there that he fell asleep through more than once. About a year ago or so, I had this idea to become a college English professor. And yes, wouldn't I have been great at that with all my grammer short-comings. I could teach literature and not grammar, which would be cool, though highly unlikely.
Anyway, while in school, I learned that I was an existentionalist (bear with me on that spelling, I had a hard time with it when I had to use it often for a class months ago) on how I functioned. Knowing this should help tell me how I want to run my class among also learning some stuff about myself. Short hand version on how it relates to my converasation with my husband, it means I can carry on a converstation with somebody that involves asking and answering questions, while the person I'm talking to will think I'm totally there and paying attention. However, my mind has me light years away thinking in-depth about something completely different. While I find it utterly amazing that i've got a two tract mind going on, my hubby is less than enthused.
It seems, while I'm talking and so forth, I am taking in the conversation, I just often forget who I talked to at the time and where I was. In other words, my husband repeatedly stops me in the middle of spreading some great gossip to him only to inform me that he's the one that told me orginally. But, what does amaze him about my talent(and that's my word, not his), is that I can write, think, and sing to the radio at the same time, but I can't hear/see the TV and do ANYTHING ELSE. I turn into a zombie complete with hanging jaw and not very often blinking eyes.
Anybody else got something really cool going on with themselves that others find less than fascinating?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
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