It sounds like....

I wasn't going to blog again today. My plan was to cruise through your writings, leave some comments, and try to gather up some coping skills. I have tried lying in bed listening to soothing music. Nyet. I have tried paying those bills that were worrying my mind. Nyet. I have taken a shower because I felt stinky. Nyet. I hoped for an Idea for this blog so long as I was in there. Nyet. I sent an email to my father asking for more money, assuring future financial solvency. Nyet. I ate. Nyet. I watched an episode of something I recorded on the DVR. Can't remember what it was now. Nyet. Oh yeah, The Good Wife. Good show. Still nyet. The migraine lingers. It sticks like grappling hooks and pounds away. I think it is determined to thunk out every worthwhile thought that I have. Oh there is a good that. Bang bang bang. Oh what was it again? I forgot. It started with.... It is something like that.

Of course my favorite moments these days are when I forget the words for things and have to go with the description. I forgo this little adventure in my blog and just shut down the topic entirely. But in my real life I can't quite do do that. Mostly because people are talking, and you are talking, and suddenly the word is gone. First comes dead silence, and then the realization that the word really is gone for the duration of this conversation. Therefore, since "shoe" is no longer part of your active vocabulary, the fun begins. First there is the apologizing for having forgotten a simple word. Then it is like a game of charades without the ear pulling for "sounds like" and other such antics. Instead, it is "you know the leather item you wear on your foot." And you get the relief of your conversational partner supplying the missing word: shoe. Then you feel like a total dumbass because shoe is not a hard word. It isn't even two syllables. If my brain is going to forget something, it should at least give me the dignity of forgetting something with two syllables. Something like flashlight. You know the thing that you hold in your hand that requires batteries and a light comes on. Mostly it gets used in the dark since it provides light. That one could be fun. It might take several minutes to get someone to come up with flashlight if my brain went down with that word. Egads.

I read Liza's blog and she was talking about how much she loves blogging, even though she hasn't been blogging as regularly as she used to, and she threw out a question to her readers about their blogs. Why do you blog? Do you love it? This blog used to keep me grounded. Sane. I feel my hand slipping on the crazy stick, and I know that it is the chronic pain. I used to know that I had to blog every day even if I felt like I couldn't, because every life needs meaning. Even if I really didn't have anything to say. Richard Bach says that learning is remembering what you already know. Should have set that up as a quotation. Didn't. Said it in his book ILLUSIONS, which I have read so many times, well I should be smarter than this.

So, why do I blog? To give my life meaning. Even though I don't see any meaning right now. Even though I see a lot of crazy. Even though I can't remember words and have to launch into descriptions of words that make me giddy crazy. Why do I read your blogs? I look for meaning. Why am I intent on creating a website? To create meaning. To keep people from falling down the rabbit hole.

It is no secret that I spend a lot of time on youtube. A plethora of time. I have not been silent on my Marshall Mathers fascination. He strikes me as another person looking for meaning. Ah, there goes Robin overthinking things again. LOL. I am throwing up two videos of the same song. One is the entire song and I don't think the "official" video, but I think it is very real in the context of the lyrics of the song. Ironically, this is one of his only songs where I think the curse words are all appropriate. I wouldn't change them. Huh. Go figure on that. The other is the official video, and it isn't inappropriate because Marshall Mathers is very attached to Detroit, and cares very much about the city. However, I don't think that he wrote the song with the city in mind. The fact that he feels a lot like the city is just cool. I don't know why they chose to drop the last verse of the song for the video. That doesn't make sense to me at all. But, who am I to judge anything? I can't remember one syllable words on any given day in the course of a conversation, so I am clearly not the word master.






I suppose this is all speaking to me right now because I have never felt less like myself. You know those exercises that they give you in high school... imagine your life in five years, ten years, twenty years. They do the same thing in college. Well, I had big plans. I really didn't expect to end up in sales. That was surprising. However, I feel a bit like Ally McBeal on her rant about her plan and it not working out. I would show you video footage for that if I had it. My plan was Beautiful. Nowhere in the plan was there me moving back in with my parents, having a seven year migraine, and living on pain medication. That is not Beautiful. That was not my plan. Not the five year, ten year, or twenty year plan. I was the only grandchild on either side of my family who went to college. And they all have good jobs, those non-college graduates. And none of them live with their parents. Just sayin'. Yeah, this is me bitchin' about my shoes. I wear seven and a halfs, sometimes eights. What about you?