This made me laugh out loud, even after watching it more than once:
A notable quote:
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom – Tucker wants me humping his shoulder.
(via The Rekounas Blog)
This morning my mom asked me if I was getting enough sleep; she said I looked tired and worn out. I think I’m getting enough sleep. There are a few things on my mind lately, but I don’t think they’re troubling me.
Maybe I should shave more than once a week.
It’s still self-pity day. Bear with me.
I find myself scrutinizing my kids’ behavior, trying to figure out if my kids have talent in any area, such as music or drawing. We’re not pushing them into anything – it’s a casual observation, hoping they’ll have an aptitude I wish I had. I see my son wanting to play with tools all the time, even though we haven’t given him anything, so I see hope for him as a carpenter. I see my daughter coming up with something melodic on the piano and I get excited that she has musical talent. I’m sure most parents do the same, wanting their children to exceed.
Which brings me to my main point:
I’m not an expert at any one thing. I don’t have the patience to devote the time and energy on something I WISH I excelled at, despite my ALWAYS wanting to be more than just good at it.
For example, I love to write. I read books about writing and grammar all the time. I love the idea of writing for a living; actually, I love the idea of being artistic at anything, even though I know the odds of making money from it are low. Yet, I don’t work at it. I’d rather dabble in a little of everything I like, instead of concentrating on one thing. I label myself “lazy”, but really, maybe it’s just inattentiveness along with a need to know about everything without becoming an expert.
My lack of being good at any one thing makes me envy those who ARE good at particular skills, especially practical skills like plumbing or construction-related tasks.
I still think I may have a talent not discovered yet. Maybe I’d be a superb chef (I DO enjoy cooking) or a watch maker. Who knows? How can one figure out that stuff? I don’t believe in self-help books – most of their drivel is common sense, but they ARE intriguing, like Don’t Waste Your Talent : The 8 Critical Steps to Discovering What You Do Best.
Do not overrate what you have received, nor envy others. He who envies others does not obtain peace of mind.
No shit, Sherlock.
So, it’s around 2pm and I’m getting hungry – I haven’t had lunch yet. I forgot my wallet at home, and all I have is a loaf of bread and gum on my desk. I don’t feel like eating plain whole wheat bread, but I see a jar of peanut butter at a co-worker’s cubicle. What the hell – he won’t mind. So I make a peanut butter sandwich.
5 minutes later: The sandwich has an odd aftertaste. It doesn’t taste like peanuts. While eating it it seemed fine, but now, a lingering aftertaste of this-ain’t-right is in the back of my throat.
So I’m drinking a cup of coffee to wash that taste out. That’ll fix it! I couldn’t easily find anything on google about getting sick from old peanut butter, and google knows everything, thus I won’t get sick.
Phillip might post my obituary, if it comes to that.
While on vacation I got sick 30 minutes after eating two fried eggs. They seemed fine when I cooked and ate them, but afterwards I vomited half the day. Maybe my sense of taste isn’t acute to non-normal things.
Greg: yes, that peanut butter jar sitting in your cubicle near the window. I threw it out.