Since I haven’t had a day off in two weeks I’m on the brink of losing my marbles. I know, two weeks isn’t very long. Especially if you’re a parent. But if you’re a parent you and your soap box about how raising a child is a full-time job can go away because if you were half as accustomed to bumming around as I am you’d be going crazy in only two weeks too. And anyways I only said I was on the brink of losing my marbles. It’s kind of like I spilled them all over the floor and some rolled under the couch and I can’t find like four of them for the life of me and I am REALLY hoping they didn’t fall down the air vent but it’s looking like that must be the case and I’m just going to have to make things work with four marbles too few from now on, til I can find a coupon for half-price marbles somewhere to replace them. Nobody in their right mind would pay full price for marbles. Then again, being in my wrong mind and all, I suppose I might as well just pay full price.
Basically what I’m getting at here is that I’ve naturally become pretty much an expert on the early signs of insanity. For your self-diagnostic information, here are just a few:
-You have a blog.
-You read this blog.
-You find yourself reacting to big, exciting news from a friend by getting irrationally suspicious and then surreptitiously asking others if the news is really true or just an elaborate plot to get back at you for falsely convincing said friend that your boyfriend was buying you a falcon for your birthday last November. (Really weird explanatory post coming soon!)
-You’re an adult and yet you find yourself using “poo head” as an insult.
-Steve Carell as Michael Scott just suddenly doesn’t seem funny to you any more.
-You often write ridiculously long run-on sentences that make perfect sense to you but as you write them you start to fret that anyone else reading them won’t be able to follow your train of thought, which prompts you to add more and more detail until they are twice the length you originally anticipated, and you don’t really feel any better about their clarity. You’re suddenly worried that your old English teacher who taught you about the importance of being concise will read the sentence and feel disappointed in not only you but also herself, and you find yourself inexplicably concerned about her emotional well-being.
-Even if it’s completely nonsensical, you find rhyming unusually entertaining, if it’s raining and you’re staining some clothes with your nose on a moose running loose through the streets of Beijing. (I couldn’t think of a city that rhymed with “streets.” Sorry.)
If one or more of the above applies to you, I highly recommend you see a doctor or at least spend a LOT more time sitting around on your butt til you get more normal.
If you’ve got more, please share in the comments! Sharing is caring. And daring, if you’re swearing. Bonus points for crappy rhymes!