What Batman and Baristas Teach Me about Life
There is a reason I have not posted here for about three months.
Rather, there are at least three reasons. In descending order of influence, they are:
But there is never a baseball bat on hand.
Inevitably, I end up digging through an old, hidden stash of (fill-in-the-blank with binge food/drink) and turning my aggression at the annoying details of mundane life into an assault on my own health. But sugar can only go so far (contrary to the belief of my dentist) and this is where other people swoop in to stop the damage.
Specifically, a past, fellow barista back in Boston. You know who you are, ya crazy kid.
Nagging me to write more about the intimate details of my humorously naive marriage, she has faithfully pestered me for more posts since day one. The Alfred to my Batman, she serves me fiesty bits of encouragement on silver platters even when I try to escape my fate as a billionaire superhero:
Okay, okay, OKAY, BeccaJo-Alfred! You're right.
There are hundreds of amusing and embarrassing insights to my current life as a worker bee/married person of undeserved interest. Unless I am reminded that they are worth sharing, these intimate moments will remain unexploited.
And, we all know exploitation is the sincerest form of therapy.
Alex will be thrilled to hear we are back to broadcasting...if I can keep up my side of the deal (with your guilt/nagging, of course).
Rather, there are at least three reasons. In descending order of influence, they are:
- "Holy hell, how can I go back there now? All my attempts at audience-building are dead. Might as well eat more chocolate chips from the freezer and mourn my dwindling social circle."
- Life is all work and no play, meaning...
- I am no longer unconventional. (Return to #1).
Sorry to break it to you, but it had to be said (I'm looking at you, all three of my remaining subscribers).
Though, this lack of blogging outlet has created something odd around the Morrison apartmenthold.
No blogging means enternalizing those weird quirks in daily life, and daily marriage, that are innocuous and bland until one day...
one day that seems like all the rest...
I want to find a baseball bat and pull one of these:
No blogging means enternalizing those weird quirks in daily life, and daily marriage, that are innocuous and bland until one day...
one day that seems like all the rest...
I want to find a baseball bat and pull one of these:
But there is never a baseball bat on hand.
Inevitably, I end up digging through an old, hidden stash of (fill-in-the-blank with binge food/drink) and turning my aggression at the annoying details of mundane life into an assault on my own health. But sugar can only go so far (contrary to the belief of my dentist) and this is where other people swoop in to stop the damage.
Specifically, a past, fellow barista back in Boston. You know who you are, ya crazy kid.
Nagging me to write more about the intimate details of my humorously naive marriage, she has faithfully pestered me for more posts since day one. The Alfred to my Batman, she serves me fiesty bits of encouragement on silver platters even when I try to escape my fate as a billionaire superhero:
I will never give up on you!
ReplyDeletexxx
BeccaJo