this thing is still about things

Pre-Mayan Apocalypse Confessions


Since I wasn’t raptured, I guess I need to post my confessions for the upcoming Mayan Apocalypse (December 21 for people living under a rock but are not survivalists).  So here goes!

1. I’m gonna be a paperback writer.  I write things.  I write things that I should try to get published.  It’s fun, because I tell the kids “I have to do some work” but that entails me just sitting at my computer.  So apparently Facebook and Warcraft are also work.  But in all seriousness I hate rejection.  NO ONE CAN REJECT ME IN MY PILLOW FORT OF A MIND!  If we survive the apocalypse, I might maybe look into submitting something maybe.  Maybe not.  But maybe.

My butt and back would totally hurt if I typed like that.

2. You may say I’m a dreamer.  I take so much stock into my dreams because I strongly feel that my subconscious mind knows the answers to the questions that permeate my conscious mind during the day.  Prime example: Last night I was complaining (whining) to the Mr. about a situation that had been plaguing me for the past two weeks–something I could not drop; something I could not stop bitching and bitching and bitching about.  What a patient man he is.  Or maybe he’s good at tuning me out now.  ANYWAY, in all of the crazy things that floated through my head last night, two things stood out.  First, a swimming pool that had a bunch of junk in the water.  Algae was beginning to grow as well, clouding the water.  I needed to get that shit out of the pool so I could clean it.  Translation: I need to get all of this unnecessary bullshit out of my head so I can clear my mind.  Easy.  The other dream was Kelly Kapowski telling me that when talking to a group, talk to them like you’re saying “I love you”–that way everyone in the group will feel as if you’re talking directly to them thus strengthening the impact of your message.  By the way, readers:  I LOVE YOU.

Sometimes a dream is just a dream and not me stalking you.  Sometimes.

3. You might think I’m crazy.  I recently attended a group class for, I shit you not, past life regression.  The part that amazed me was that there only seemed to be about two crazy people in the class and the rest looked very normal (suburban ladies, casually dressed guys with jobs, etc).  I don’t think I looked like one of the crazy people, but whatever.  The teacher/guide was very funny and laid back and not at all a creepy hippie (which was what I was expecting).  This experience was amazeballs.  And for someone like me, who knows little of history and geography, it was a bit chilling to come home to the Mr. who could confirm and explain the things I was seeing.  I am not going to get into it because it was so unbelievably personal that I am not sharing the details on my blog.  I know, right?  I will tell you this:  it is very uncomfortable to control the urge to fart when you meditate.  Trust me on this.

I don’t use these guys enough. Their past life series is amazing.

4. We don’t need no education.  My biggest regret was never having the opportunity to finish college.  Some people are students of the world but I think I need more structure than that.  I cringe when people say “you can do if you really wanted to”.  That’s a bunch of bullshit.  Oh, I really wanted to, but I also had a selfish need to eat food.  If I can’t afford to eat, I sure as hell can’t afford to pay for one class at community college.  If I was paralyzed and really wanted to stand, I guess I should have just done that, too.  There are rules regarding loans for people of a certain age, when your parents are expected to give one shit about you.  And going to school during the day when you work nights 6 nights a week just doesn’t work for me (I’ve tried it).  Then working and commuting 70 hours a week makes you less motivated to pay $400 for one online class that you can’t stay awake for.  Pretty soon, it will become a me vs. kids situation if I would ever let it, and I never would.  It’s one of my biggest regrets but it’s not worth being selfish for.

I’m 90% sure these do not count.

Here is a quick rundown of the remaining confessions:

  • I hate pants. No pants > pajama pants > sweat pants > jeans
  • Everything makes me cry. If you haven’t seen me cry, you haven’t met me even once.
  • My secret wish is to live on a self sustaining farm, but I’m sure I’m too lazy for that.
  • I believe in ghosts or maybe just coincidences that have impossible odds.
  • I still wear tee shirts and socks from high school.  They’re not even special, I just still have them in rotation.



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