Ameba to Omega, 2012
0031205005623, 0030105005723....
I used to dream of vivid surrealisms, saving the world and flying high above the countryside, now it's black and white stripes and numbers. I've been making myself crazy with barcoding. I'm getting ready to open a store. I bag and staple, label and code, all day, all night. When my head settles into it's cradle of down, the numbers begin to roll. I'm wondering what I skipped, where I left off, and how many dad-gum sticky labels I have yet to print.When I sit down at this keyboard I reluctantly start in again, pushing aside my desire to write something with no numbers in it. I've deprived myself of my daily ritual of tapping out my life story, complete with bone-headed faux pas and other-worldly experiences. I haven't seen anything supernatural since November 2. Go figure. The very things that kept me from sleeping those forty days, I've begun to miss. No orbs, fairies, glowie clouds of moonstone, no winds whirling through my chamber or phantasmic felines pouncing on my patchwork, with their soft solicitous soliloquy. I turn out the the light and my room goes dark. Nothing else happens.
I was watching the History Channel yesterday as I droned along dutifully preparing my inventory. There were many interesting shows. Back to back enlightenment. There was more about the dreaded Bigfoot, Area 51, Nostradamus, Edgar "The Sleeping Seer", Atlantis, and much more. I was transfixed. It's a miracle I didn't drive a staple through a finger or try to put my thumb in the hole punch. I can be such an idiot when I try to run on all eight tracks at once. I have to remind myself, that there is a reason why 8 track tapes had to die. It was just one of those bad ideas everyone had to buy 50 of before they figured it out.
I don't know when I realized how much I was talking to the television, but the lunacy hit me. I was like a sports fan in front of a game, minus the beer hat and team colors. I agreed. I disagreed. I yelled words like moron, dumb ass, ...and your just figuring this out NOW?, and ...Ooh, I bet YOU have a PHd in proctology from an I-Vey league school...physician HEAL thyself!
So, basically, after being taken back to our amebic roots and then shot through time into the projected Omega, 2012, I decided that fat was the least of my troubles, I headed for the ice cream. While smooshing the creamy Bunny tracks against the roof of my mouth, I made my mental list. I needed to tell my daughter to please forget about moving to South Carolina, on account of it being predestined for total submersion, ask my sister in Los Angeles to get her whole family to agree on taking a year out of the motion picture industry and come stay with us for an open-ended vacation just prior to 2010, since it's scheduled for total destruction that year, reinforce the basement for the impending tornadic devastation that will sweep through the Mid-West, and tell my girlfriend not to worry about quiting smoking since it's doubtful it'll kill her first, her living in San Diego and all. I needed two sets of ear plugs. We'd only need them once. And most importantly, I had 4 years to reach my full potential....6 tops.
John came in from work and asked how long I'd been sitting there creating all that debris. I stuffed my work into it's boxes and huffed at him, "I only have 4 years to reach my financial peek, so if I want to leave something behind when mankind is wiped off the face of a grateful earth I don't have much time, now do I? I never stop John. This is what I do. So when you ask me what I did today, and I say, nothing, this is that nothing... okay? THIS is my future, my 401K. Oh wait! I don't HAVE a future now do I? "
1/11/2006 0:8 AMword count 662
I used to dream of vivid surrealisms, saving the world and flying high above the countryside, now it's black and white stripes and numbers. I've been making myself crazy with barcoding. I'm getting ready to open a store. I bag and staple, label and code, all day, all night. When my head settles into it's cradle of down, the numbers begin to roll. I'm wondering what I skipped, where I left off, and how many dad-gum sticky labels I have yet to print.When I sit down at this keyboard I reluctantly start in again, pushing aside my desire to write something with no numbers in it. I've deprived myself of my daily ritual of tapping out my life story, complete with bone-headed faux pas and other-worldly experiences. I haven't seen anything supernatural since November 2. Go figure. The very things that kept me from sleeping those forty days, I've begun to miss. No orbs, fairies, glowie clouds of moonstone, no winds whirling through my chamber or phantasmic felines pouncing on my patchwork, with their soft solicitous soliloquy. I turn out the the light and my room goes dark. Nothing else happens.
I was watching the History Channel yesterday as I droned along dutifully preparing my inventory. There were many interesting shows. Back to back enlightenment. There was more about the dreaded Bigfoot, Area 51, Nostradamus, Edgar "The Sleeping Seer", Atlantis, and much more. I was transfixed. It's a miracle I didn't drive a staple through a finger or try to put my thumb in the hole punch. I can be such an idiot when I try to run on all eight tracks at once. I have to remind myself, that there is a reason why 8 track tapes had to die. It was just one of those bad ideas everyone had to buy 50 of before they figured it out.
I don't know when I realized how much I was talking to the television, but the lunacy hit me. I was like a sports fan in front of a game, minus the beer hat and team colors. I agreed. I disagreed. I yelled words like moron, dumb ass, ...and your just figuring this out NOW?, and ...Ooh, I bet YOU have a PHd in proctology from an I-Vey league school...physician HEAL thyself!
So, basically, after being taken back to our amebic roots and then shot through time into the projected Omega, 2012, I decided that fat was the least of my troubles, I headed for the ice cream. While smooshing the creamy Bunny tracks against the roof of my mouth, I made my mental list. I needed to tell my daughter to please forget about moving to South Carolina, on account of it being predestined for total submersion, ask my sister in Los Angeles to get her whole family to agree on taking a year out of the motion picture industry and come stay with us for an open-ended vacation just prior to 2010, since it's scheduled for total destruction that year, reinforce the basement for the impending tornadic devastation that will sweep through the Mid-West, and tell my girlfriend not to worry about quiting smoking since it's doubtful it'll kill her first, her living in San Diego and all. I needed two sets of ear plugs. We'd only need them once. And most importantly, I had 4 years to reach my full potential....6 tops.
John came in from work and asked how long I'd been sitting there creating all that debris. I stuffed my work into it's boxes and huffed at him, "I only have 4 years to reach my financial peek, so if I want to leave something behind when mankind is wiped off the face of a grateful earth I don't have much time, now do I? I never stop John. This is what I do. So when you ask me what I did today, and I say, nothing, this is that nothing... okay? THIS is my future, my 401K. Oh wait! I don't HAVE a future now do I? "
1/11/2006 0:8 AMword count 662
posted by Susan at 10:28 PM
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