This is installment #2 in my so-far weekly series: “That’s What I Think About That”.
- Any sentence that starts with a disclaimer like “blah-de-blah, blah, blah, BUT…”, is not worth giving your attention, time, or energy. Some of the worst examples of this type of communication:
- No offense, but…
- I don’t want to hurt you, but…
- You know I love you, but…
- I really didn’t want to say this, but…
- I’m not a racist, but…
- I don’t like to judge, but…
Each of these phrases pretty much guarantees that what comes next in that sentence is indeed the very thing the person is trying to convince you is NOT what they are doing. They want you to think that what comes next is coming out almost against their own will – like it’s not even their own thought, certainly not their normal everyday grossness about to shine through. No, they don’t like to judge, but…they are gonna lay some judgment on you RIGHT now. They are not, gasp, racist, but…OH, my goodness, what comes next is just so fruckin’ racist!
- People who can’t keep their dogs safely on their leashes need to get a grip. Literally. For the dogs sake, if not the sake of the other people in the area…many of whom are often small children.
I was walking through a swamp/park and a woman with two giant black labs straining at their leashes was trying to get over a snowbank and apparently thought her two black labs were going to pull her off her feet – so she just let go – ON PURPOSE – of their leashes, at which point they both went barreling toward an innocent bystander that had already successfully navigated said snow bank.
The bystander was me. I was the successful navigator, happily enjoying my triumphant defeat of that mountainous snowbank (which was actually only about a foot deep), about to fall victim to an onslaught of exuberant tongues, noses, and snowy/muddy feet.
Luckily, I’m good with dogs and not afraid of them, so I just grabbed their leashes until she got herself extricated from the snowbank. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there, though? Or worse, if I had been a small child, or a person afraid of dogs…or if I had been an evil swamp creature?
One of the dogs was a jumper, so if I hadn’t had my feet firmly planted, he would have definitely taken me DOWN. I never blame the dogs in these situations, but that lady really needed to examine her priorities. There was a nice flat place about 30 feet further on that she could have strolled through with ease.
Anyway – after she stumbled over the snowbank and got to where I was standing petting her dogs, she grabbed the leashes from me while mumbling something I couldn’t hear. I said: “I’ll just let you go ahead, so they don’t get too riled up.”, at which point she huffed off ahead of me, and proceeded to drop the leashes again about 20 feet away.
Busy street nearby, swamp all around, and apparently she thinks letting them run free is more important than their safety. I can’t believe those dogs haven’t either killed someone with their exuberant joyful greeting or fallen into the swamp, only to be kidnapped by the resident swamp creature, who would then carry them off into the deep dark places and raise them as her own, teaching them the ways of all swamp creatures.
Many years later that same hapless woman who didn’t keep those dogs safe would visit this swamp again, and wonder at the glowing eyes peering at her through the tall grasses. She won’t recognize the shaggy, giant creatures that were once her perfectly innocent and joyful black labs.
Instead, she’ll run in fear, only to fall, victim of another snowbank. She will barely escape the gnashing teeth and lolling tongues of the terrible beasts. She will claw her way over the snow, dragging herself to her car, fleeing with her frozen, pitiful life, never understanding that if she had just held on to the GAWD DAMN leashes she would still have her faithful companions by her side.
- Procrastination is evil and not at all a viable strategic plan for accomplishing my list of goals. I am a stellar, world class procrastinator and have often excelled despite myself. However, I’m getting older, and my brain and body can’t quite rise to the challenge anymore…yet, the devil, PRINCE OF ALL PROCRASTINATORS (not just the Prince of Lies, or the Lord of the Flies) , still has control of my brain even though I don’t believe in the devil. Apparently, the devil believes in ME, and my personal hell is perpetual procrastination. I really should do something about that. … … … Maybe tomorrow.
- I can’t understand it when other people’s brains aren’t thinking 120 thoughts at the same time. Actually, 120 was a typo, I meant to type 12…but then I realized that it might actually be closer to 120 and maybe I should leave that number so that everyone can really understand the cacophony that is the inside of my brain.
What is it even LIKE to have just a few thoughts…or, is it even possible? Can someone have just ONE, logical, solid, uninterrupted and coherent thought at a time? Does that one single thought just bounce around in there the same way my thoughts bounce around? Or is it all calm and contained, just hovering in the center of a clean, empty head like a perfectly weighted balloon.
Both of my current roommates (i.e. current hubby and grown up progeny) seem to be able to keep their minds from spinning most of the time. The progeny can sometimes go off the rails, but usually their mind stays fairly focused, albeit not necessarily on the things they WANT to focus on. Meanwhile, MY mind spins so much that the wheel falls off the bus and goes into a ditch and then just keeps spinning and churning up mud.
How peaceful and wonderful their inner worlds must be. And cleaner. And more organized. Less muddy, for certain. No wonder both of them seem like wise, emotionally stable monks perched on the top of a mountain while I am the entire 5th grade class field trip from 5 districts, gathered at the base of the mountain, all clamoring for attention from the 20 desperate and harried adults who are fruitlessly trying to organize everybody for the climb up to the top.
- Going to Trader Joe’s at 4 p.m. on a Friday should not feel like you are about to throw yourself into the midst of a pack of starving hyenas. THAT is what it feels like to go to Whole Foods at noon on Saturday. Trader Joe’s is supposed to be a safe haven, especially when people are supposedly AT WORK. COME ON…don’t you people have JOBS???
- My last TWITAT post included a list of labels I feel comfortable applying to myself, so this week I want to create another list. Hmmmm…let’s see. Ummmmm…yeah, I got nothing. Dag-nab-it.
- OK. I think I’m done now.