There are several things on a daily basis that just don't make sense to me. Now, keep in mind, MENSA has never knocked down my door or anything, but still... I'm not Sarah Palin. I am a reasonably intelligent functioning adult, but still. Sometimes, I just don't get it.
Why do people feel the need to open conversations by asking stupid questions? For a short time, we owned a Great Pyrenees, which is basically a giant white snow beast of a dog. When walking that dog, people would ask me "Is that your dog?" No. This canine is really a figment of your imagination. Actually, even though I have three children and another dog, I just find strays and walk them when I have free time. Ha ha, free time. Get it?
Why do people feel the need to point out that you don't look very good? I'm at Meijer today and my cashier, who I don't know, feels the need to exclaim that I look "toe up." I'm not sure what that means, but when I googled it, it doesn't seem like a compliment. Clearly, I have a cold. You can hear it when I speak or sniffle, and I have a droopy eye that is following in Bob Costas's eyesteps... but that doesn't mean I still don't pretend in my head that I look like Heidi Klum. (I realize I don't look like her when I'm healthy either, but my mental picture of myself doesn't have to know that.)
Why do people say things like, "This smells bad. Smell it" or "this tastes bad. Taste it." My answer to both.... no. I am more than willing to take you word for it. I don't need to confirm it by experiencing the yuck for myself.
My son will not wear lip balm on his chapped red lips because he says he doesn't like the way it feels wet and slimy. Then he licks his lips 100 times a minute. How is that not wet and slimy?
Its not just other people, either. Sometimes, I confound myself.
When given too much time on my hands these past few weeks, I decided we needed a complete rearrangement of the playroom. I executed this mission with the precision of a marine and the time frame of a.... well, I can't think of anything that actually works on time and efficiently anymore. But, in a matter of two days, it was repainted, rearranged, reconfigured, etc. I work tirelessly until its done. However, it resulted in several photos that I chose not to rehang, and while I needed to get that room done immediately, I am quite content to let the stack of photos sit on my dresser upstairs indefinitely before I put them with the other photos in the bin in my closet. But, by God, I got the playroom done.
I know that I need a pair of clean black yoga pants to wear to work tomorrow, but I just keep restarting the dryer instead of switching the laundry. In my head, I know I can take it out and move forward, but in my laziness, I feel like it needs a little touch up.
I menu plan for the week and grocery shop Monday mornings. I rarely actually cook Monday night. I feel that much effort should be rewarded with take away or eating out.
So, with all that being said, I am heading to Cheddar's for dinner, because I shopped today and probably wearing dirty yoga pants at work tomorrow. But, if you see me, don't mention how bad I look. I'm over it.