Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Do we all want the same things?

I don’t think that we all want the exact same things out of our lives…at least I hope not. Is every woman looking for a boring, metro sexual, thin, businessman?…I hope not! If you meet him, he’s mine! I have met girls who like guys who drive trucks and go outside- not me! I’m not allowed to ride in trucks. Wait…I can’t remember why that is?…oh well…no matter! That’s fine! No truckers for me. I’m sure there are some trucker girls for the trucker boys…My only struggle now is that I’m a little worried that since everyone is getting married two and three times these days, there are few people left over for those of us who are hoping to meet someone to have a future with! I look at it like a game of musical chairs: The music stops, everyone sits down and once I’m done making sure the next song is written and ready to play, all the chairs are taken. In a perfect world, there would be a bouncer at the musical chair house, stopping people from collecting chairs so other people can have a chance to sit down!…alas…it doesn’t work that way. Those chair stealers are getting so good at staking their claim when the music stops, that people like me have just had to throw their hands up and walk out of the game!

I have to say that though at times I’ve come close to throwing up more than my hands over this subject, it’s usually just because I’ve been on some sort of sugar binge. Like for instance today- I couldn’t take that girl driving in the car behind me who was pounding on her steering wheel and screaming for some reason. Um…why did I feel like I wanted to drive a little slower? I mean…clearly the person in front of me was the one who was moving at a snail’s pace. I was just trying not to hit him. Normally I would smile and wave at her! Geez! I’m nice!…well…sometimes I just don’t feel like being nice…and I had eaten Swedish fish! Oh boy! Red dye number 5!…YUM!…but what about the 48 or so hours of a short, calculated temper (rather an oxymoron I suppose)? Actually…come to think about it, even at my worst, the most I would do to the crazy lady pounding her steering wheel, is give her a stern look with that expression of “I think you’re an idiot” that I’ve practiced in the mirror in case I need to express my feeling without words someday. Ah yes! That’s gratifying...wait...no...she flipped me off. I bet she could tell that I didn’t approve of her behavior and will think about it next time. She probably won’t even be able to sleep tonight! I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings.