So I mentioned one unreasonable fear. Today I found another.

Food disposal, sink disposal, waste disposal?  What do we call it?  What's the right word?  Well, I have yet another irrational fear.  Luckily my food disposal doesn't require that I fill that bad boy up with petroleum and cause a static fire.  I fear putting my hand in the disposal.  This morning the disposal was making a weird, grinding noise.  I hated the thought of sticking my fist in that hole.  (That sentence belongs on an entirely different blog, wow.)  But clearly something was wrong.

Why do I question reaching in?  It's not like my other hand is going to reach over and flip the switch.  It's not like some freak electrical malfunction is going to throw the switch and rip my hand to shreds.  It's my mom's fault.  She warned me. OVER and OVER.  Be careful. you'll lose your fingers. Maybe your whole hand.  GROSS!

Today, while reaching in and saying a little prayer I found limes from last night's cocktails.  Those should be in the composter you loser!  ooops.  forgot.  But I also found a torn up piece of "plastic who knows what" that totally doesn't belong in the composter.   Risked my life for that crazy piece of plastic.

Glad to be alive.  Still afraid of the disposal.  Be careful out there, especially in the kitchen.

I would like Foghorn Leghorn on my forehead please. And, by the way what do you charge for that?

I saw a van with curtains today, at the liquor store.  Vans with curtains make me nervous.  Who buys a van with curtains?  And then if you have a van with curtains, why do you keep them drawn?  It makes me nervous.

Face tattoos make me uncomfortable.  How bad do you have to hate your face to tattoo it?  What about a tattoo will make your face better?

Just a few things I am pondering.  Pondering....

I don't need Nostradamus, this makes it very clear to me.

So, whilst browsing a stupid catalog I received in the mail today I came across a little summin, summin'.

It is exactly why I know that the end of the world is near.  Very near.  Check it out please and then go build a safe room or a cellar or something.  Just build baby.

The Pet High Chair.

Satisfying a mutual desire for companionship, this high chair permits your dog or cat to accompany you at the dinner table. The high chair clips securely to tables up to 2" thick and its height adjusts without tools to elevate your pet to near eye level. It has a frame of powder-coated 5/8" steel tubing and its arms are rubber-coated so they will not mar table surfaces. By providing an alternative to sitting on your lap, running disruptively underfoot, or outright banishment, the chair assuages a pet (and its owner's) frustration, and promotes more refined behavior. The chair's 600-denier tan/brown nylon fabric cleans easily. Two tethers on the chair protect your dinner guests against any lapses in etiquette. Folds for convenient storage and travel. For pets up to 10 lbs. 10" H x 12" W x 9 1/2" D. (4 lbs.)

This thing cost $49.95!    Seriously?  This satisfies a "mutual desire for companionship"?  This worries mel  And some poor schmuck had to write that copy.  Oh dear Lord, the end is near. 

Forgive my sarcasm but you gotta be shittin' me?!

If you are so busy strategizing you forget about living!

Had a discussion with The Man in My Life today.  We spend WAY to much time strategizing and a lot less time living. Here's an example.

Took all 3 offspring to see "Alice in Wonderland" in 3D!  today.  We discussed when we should show up at the theater (so we could get a seat)  Should we hit Petco first, do we have time? Maybe you should go see if we can get seats and then we can go from there?  Should we think about running to the store first to get soup for dinner?  You know it will be dinner time when the movie is over?  What do you think?

Once it was determined that we could not get into the theater for seats but we could wait in line we had this discussion.  Should we all wait in line?  Where are the boys?  Do you have a quarter?  Mom, when are you getting some drinks because I am hungry? (oh, wait I'm sorry son the small bottle of rum in my purse is yelling at me so don't talk to me about mixers right now.)

We have now made it into the theater.  Here I am asked... Where should we sit?  Are you sure this is a good spot for 3D perhaps we should be down a row, whatya' think?  Are there 5 in a row?  Should we move down so as not to leave a single seat that no one can use?  I have to use the restroom, should I do that before we get snacks?

Getting snacks was frightening.  What should we get the offspring?  Will they eat that much?  Will they want more?  What do we want?  Should we share a large drink?  Does that small bottle of rum in your purse cover 2 large drinks?  Do you want popcorn?  I don't know, do you?  Now that we have this popcorn, should we put some of that fancy flavoring on it?  Do you think there is too much sodium in that stuff?  Aren't we watching our sodium intake?

We spend WAY to much trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.  In the meantime, we miss most of what's going on.  We are trying to get everywhere faster, quieter, stronger, louder, bigger, better, smaller and God knows what else.  All the while, no one is looking at us and everyone is looking at us too.

Live without Strategy, you will be surprised how nicely it will work out and finally someone will have just made a decision.  Finally.

You all have been so kindly commenting.  Why thank you.  I love the comments.  Does anyone know how I can get an email notification for each of your comments.  I really need the instant gratification!  Really, I just need to know when a new comment shows up without checking in and trying to remember how many had commented an hour earlier!  Honestly.  How about I get a job?  Like a real job, where I have to show up in something other than my pajamas and just because it's 5:00p.m. I can't automatically pour myself an adult beverage.

Lord help my Narcissistic self.

The Aboriginal People SHOULD be pissed. They are NOT having a gay old time.

Did you see it?  Did you watch the nonsense?  Oh my hell, the Russian Ice Dancing Team just pissed the shit out of me.  There has been some controversy over their costumes. Their costumes?  That's what we are talking about?  What about the actual routine? It sucked, sucked bad.  It was like the Flintstones gone bad! Did you see their facial expressions at the end?  These are adults and this is their job and they can consciously make those faces at each other and get paid to do it?  I know what you are thinking, Olympic athletes are amateurs, they don't get paid.  Hell ya', they do.  They are RICH!   And, how does the Aboriginal leader, whoever he may be have access to Ice dancing and the costumes and  routines that are being competed in International Ice Dancing?

I'm so confused.   The Russians and their Fred and Wilma outfits which were not well made and totally distracting have gotten a shit load of attention for their lameness.  The Aboriginal people are proud.  They should be, but they have an inside track to what's going on in Ice Dancing? Really?  They know what's going on in this arena?   Don't they live in the Outback with no T.V. no radio, no internet?  It's shocking!  I am so fucking confused.

I love the Olympics but it's got me all in a bunch.  I don't get who's who and what's what and what not?  I will continue to watch.  But WHAT UP!?  Off to eat a bloomin' onion, because that's the only thing that will make me feel better.