Fruitless
For the last two minutes I've been sitting at my desk trying to ruthlessly murder a fruit fly that keeps orbiting my workstation, paying particular attention to the airspace around my forehead. Since Mister Miyagi did not train me in the anciet art of chopstick fly catching, I'm trying, fruitlessly (ha!), to destroy the little bugger (HA!) with my hands, which means the sweet music of spastic clapping is emanating from my office, and I can only hope no one suspects I'm up to no good in here, what with all the clapping porn on the net these days. Uh, what? I have no idea what I'm talking about.
That pretty much goes for everything today. In between my Pleasure Reading for Cash (i.e., work; I seriously can't believe my good employment luck some days), I keep trying to write interesting posts on various things, but I'm stuck in some sort of ADD vortex, and besides, we're having birthday strudel for a coworker in twenty minutes and I can't see well enough to type because there are strudely stars in my eyes. Stroooooooodle. I will take a picture of it for you if it's pretty.
***
Last night while out for drinks with coworkers, one of them remarked on how fun it's been to watch me in a relationship with Simon because I'm always talking about vacations and concerts and sushi dates with Internet friends, whereas the old Leah was a broken record of "Oh, I'd just rather stay home and watch tv and eat mini mashmallows out of the bag with my cat." (Yes, the cat loves mini marshmallows too!) I still, of course, love to sloth it up on a regular basis, but it's true, my activity level since dating Simon has skyrocketed. Even more than that, though, my attitude has changed.
These days when I get invited to something or hear about an event, my reactions are (1) sure! and then (2) let me check my schedule. My former M.O. was more like (1) um...I don't think so, and then (2) think of a creative yet believable yet non-pathetic excuse to decline, and then (3) admit I'd just rather stay home and watch tv and eat mini marshmallows out of the bag with my cat and hope that people will realize it's not them, it's ME.
Well, will you look at that? A coherent thought! Huh!
Wait...What was I saying?
Hey, has anyone taken a look at Ralph Macchio lately? Oy. Dude needs some under-eye concealer.
***
UPDATE: The strudel was indeed pretty. And delicious. (Hello, butter!) And full of fruit (see: title).
lmfao- you are SO random! its' fun!
Wax on wax off....I was so into him when I was a teen. Of course that changed when I realized he was really like 30 when he made those movies.
You must get dizzy sometimes, your mind is going a million times a minute!
I'm thinking of the term "love life" and how it applies here.
You've so much more life now, with your love.
That Simon truly brings out the best in you. It's nice to be a sloth sometimes, but nice also to be pushed out of a slovenly comfort zone and try new things. I am married to a man who loves ripping up steep mountains on dirtbikes and snowmobiles and he likes to drag me along for the ride. Oftentimes I would rather be sleeping on a beach somewhere but many of our best memories have been made while pulling one of his crazy stunts.
Why is Ralph getting so hold? What in holy hell is happening to everyone but us?
(Did you know little Kevin Arnold just had a baby. Yes! No more Wonder Years for any of us.)
Dude, I'm always up for strudel. I do find it an odd choice for a birthday celebration, though. No cake? Cupcakes? STRUDEL?
I wish someone would write 'Handsomely featured' in my mini biography as if it weren't even up for debate.
Holy crap I need to find a place that sells apple strudels right now. That looks delish.
You're killing me with all of these food shots!
:)
Goddam I wish someone would buyme some delish birthday stroodle.