Morning, folks. It's my favourite day of the week again. And now you expect me to tell you all about the schoolhood scars and weekday traumas that conditioned me to cling to Saturdays like badly made Maggi clings to the bottom of the bowl. But I won't. That's a post for another day. And because I know you must be mulling over the Saturday Question right about now, and because I want you to focus on what I'm saying rather than on what I almost said, I will tell you why I can't talk about Saturday today.
Listen up people. I'll only say this once. And it's what every retard should know so pay attention and twenty bucks that will go directly to the Kitu's Pearls of Wisdom Fund.
You never talk about Saturdays on a Saturday.
Any case. Since you now know what I'm not talking about, I'll go on to talk about what I am talking about.
*revels in the repetition*
I've noticed a change creeping into my routine this summer. Those of you who've been on this blog fairly regularly, my condolences, but that is not the point. I looked at it today, and I realized that the posts are swiftly being replaced by proud and painted shoes. Now that is cause for some alarm, seeing as there is very little I am used to doing with my time and blogging makes up approximately 76% of it. So I called for a strike. Clogged down all the whirring wheels and shit in my mind. (Which is why if you'd seen me ten minutes ago you'd have thought I needed CPR or something. Note of advice: Don't shut your mind down completely it's a bit inconvenient.)
So once I got done with all the drama, I sat down and took an inventory of all the things I don't do too much anymore. Its a depressing list..I suggest you go look at more shoes or something if you're the weepy type.
Anyway, ever since I started letting cheap canvas shoes take over my life, I haven't been reading as much, or blogging as much, or making music as much. Now I like painting shoes. Its fun and it keeps me occupied so I don't get depressed in my spare time (which I often do, fyi, I'm a sullen type that way). And it could pay. As in its started paying. But its scary to have lost touch with the music. I panicked for a bit after I took this inventory, hyperventialted and all that. Had to take a brown paper bag from my stack of brown paper bags that I keep stacked for emergency situations such as these. And then I thought (for the 2453564th time in my head and for the 1st time in cyberspace) about how nice it would be if someone bought me one of those simple black thread things with a peace-of-mind type charm for a pendant. Cos I'm the nervous type. Well to be fair Si did get me a Buddha from Leh or wherever, but turns out its not the small type that you can wear on a string but the hollow type you can store hash in. And I don't even smoke hash. So much for charms :|
All that thinking, by the way, too less than a third of a minute. Difficult to fathom I suppose but I've been told I'm intelligent *stares into space intellectually* After which I composed something to make sure I haven't lost the ability. And after that I screamed in pain cos I've lost my fingertip scabs and cos I have a low pain threshold (not really) and cos I like the drama.
And now I'm blogging about it.
And now I'll go and read a book.
Which takes care of all my dying pastimes/course-of-life-determining-activities. And if ever you see more shoes than writing on this page, come slap me or something.
Ps: Try not to slap too hard. Remember my low pain threshold..