Randomness & Middle Age

My favorite conversations are those that drift so far from the original topic that you become lost. In order to find your way back, you have to load up on snacks, turn on your GPS and hope to keep your sanity. If you are truly blessed with the experience of an epic individual with whom topics are unending, then you’ll likely end up finding the Yeti bathing in the Fountain of Youth instead.

Speaking of the Yeti, I have a theory about them. Wanna hear it? Of course you do because it sure beats having to work on those reports you are supposed to be doing. Right? Honestly, I often wonder if anyone even looks at them even though we all seem to meticulously create them every work week. Someone should be saluting your mad spreadsheet skills. You know what, I officially declare the third Tuesday of the month that hosts the second full moon of the year, “Spreadsheet Creatures Rock” day. Submit your work and get free pizza, wings and $100.

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Mmmm….pizza. It’s almost lunch time. I am starving at the moment. I would like to tell you that I will be enjoying a thick slice of fully loaded cheesy goodness, but that would be a lie. Instead, I shall be eating like a rabbit. In my funk-a-delic lunch bag of woe resides a salad and grapes. I like to dine dangerously. Beware, I make a mean breakfast smoothie. For the record, I hate eating healthy. If you hear growling noises in half an hour, overlook them. It will be me, angrily eating my critter food.

Scratch that. A fellow meat-eating coworker brought me a pulled pork sandwich. Crisis averted. Carry on.

Now that I am no longer distracted by ever growing hunger pains, I can ramble on once again. What were we talking about? You want me to look back and read what I wrote? If I did that, my kind but misguided friend, I would never publish another post. I’m serious. I would edit and rewrite. Rewrite and edit. I don’t have the energy for that endeavor. You forget, I eat rabbit food. I see that you do not believe me.

Alright, I will admit it. I love cheeseburgers, pizza, tacos and chicken wings. They are delicious in all of their fattening forms. I don’t eat them nearly as often as I would like. I try my best to eat right but hardly exercise. I wish I could get as motivated to do so as those people who post their workouts online. By the way, a special shout out to the gentlemen who contribute to these videos. I do enjoy watching your muscles ripple under your skin. I know that is terrible to admit, and maybe a little creepy, but I see it as art in motion.

I see that you are not buying my explanation. You must have heard about my involuntary, voluntary vow of celibacy. Oh, you haven’t heard about that. Ahem. Well, this is awkward, especially after the whole rippling muscles shebang-bang. I probably should change the subject before you back away any more. Plus if your eyes bulge any further from their cozy sockets, I am going to have to bust out my handy ping-pong paddle and know them back in place. You want some of that action? You do? Really? You just went up a notch on my awesomeness incarnate scale.

Brain

You may have noticed that I am not the best conversationalist. I’ve jumped from topic to topic with wild abandonment. It is how my brain works. I’m not saying that I have problems focusing on one thing at a time. My problem is that I can focus on multiple things at once and will leave you behind if I do not make a conscious effort to slow down my brain. You see, I have a bad habit of having conversations without people because I can anticipate their responses. Sometimes, I even start a conversation in my head and finish it out loud as if the person I am addressing has any clue to what I am talking about in the first place. I get a many perplexed looks when I commit this blunder. Trust me when I say that it annoys me when I catch myself doing it and I know how much it aggravates others. I think I have babbled on for long enough. I have the snacks if you have the directions home.

Would you look at that, we found the blasted Fountain of Youth. I expected it to be cleaner. I sincerely hope you don’t have to drink the water to stay young. Suit yourself but rocket powered intestinal distress does not sound like a good time to me. I had a feeling you would agree.

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You know, I am slightly disappointed here. I mean, here we are. There is the Fountain of Youth. Where in tarnation are the Yeti? False advertising, I say. Oh that reminds me! I forgot to tell you my theory on the Yeti. It applies to Bigfoot and the Abominable Snowman too since they are all the same creature. Are you ready for this? All three are nothing more than middle aged hikers who have been lost in the woods for a long time.

Wait. Wait. Here me out. I have discovered that middle age is nothing more than trying to stay one step ahead of wayward hair growth in random places on my body. If you are laughing right now it is because you have either yet to experience this phenomena or you know the battle that must be waged daily. I swear, I check my chin and neck every evening for random black hairs. For every one that I eliminate, it seems that five more take its place. I wish the rest of my body had the high metabolism of my stubborn mid-life facial hair. Don’t get me started on my legs and underarms, or worse, the lady part regions. I don’t wish to give you nightmares. Starting to understand that celibacy thing now, huh?

Now that you undoubtedly have that image soaking around in your cranial fluids, let me elaborate a bit further on my Yeti theory. Imagine a middle aged camper hiking through the wilderness. Suddenly, our new friend is hopelessly lost. Hours turn into days. Survival becomes more important that unsightly body hairs. Before long, BOOM, we have a hairy camper tromping through the forest. It explains why they always take off when confronted with another human. I know I wouldn’t want my picture taken looking like Cousin It’s long lost relative. Makes sense why this place is deserted right now too. Oh and I blame the large footprints left behind my the “creature” on swollen feet. That’s another “joy” of middle age.

Would you lookey there, we made it home after all. Sure we took the scenic route but a detour from the norm is good for the soul. Here’s the real Fountain of Youth. Don’t take yourself too seriously. It only creates unnecessary stress. Eat the occasional cheeseburger. Just don’t eat the entire restaurant. It’s not the end of the world if you no longer get laid. You’d be surprised how much deeper of a connection you can achieve if you wait a little while. Finally, always laugh as much as possible.With that, I leave you with this….

Imagine someone making a pre-sneeze face right as they walk into a spider web. As they fight their way through, they trip over the Kool Aid Man who just burst onto the scene.

See, a detour from the norm. Now, go eat a cheeseburger!

koolaid

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