If you've never cooked anything more than cereal, you can skip the first paragraph of this blog. But if you have actually cooked a meal, keep reading.
I made chicken the other night and tossed the scraps into the garbage. In less than 8 hours, you'd have thought I had a 9-week-old dead hooker in my kitchen, it smelled so bad. It reminds me never to murder a chicken hooker, because that's not something you want in the trunk of your car overnight... it's a dead giveaway (pun intended).
Last night I was watching TV and the emergency warning system shut down the show I was watching to warn of a tornado in the area. All viewers were told to go into their basements. I don't have a basement...that's kind of a problem. But it did make me put things in perspective, things like, "Well, I don't have to do laundry tomorrow," and "At least I get out of November's mortgage payment." But there are those other, deeper things, that ran through my mind. Those things like, "I should've apologized to my sister for reading her diary in 7th grade," or "I've always wanted to carve my name into a tree," and especially, "Wow, this really sucks if I die tonight..." (the strange part was, I was compelled to call one person but changed my mind because I thought it would make for an awkward conversation..."Hey, what's up? Yeah, I might be dead in 3 hours...") In case you haven't figured it out by now, I survived. You're welcome.
Life is all about perspective; I guess that's the point. Like the guy I recently heard about who almost lost his hand in an accident. Luckily he didn't, but he still cannot use it. That's great and all, but while he heals there are those pain in the ass things that we don't always think about: Sure, he can wipe his ass but how does he wash one hand? Or, how does he use a shovel? He just became a slower typer. He can't easily pour cooked pasta into a strainer. Ever try to eat a taco with one hand?
Perspective. It's pretty much synonmous with Reality. They are both in our minds. People can object with one another but reality is all about our own perspective. And that's terrifying, especially with crazy fanatics out there. Like people who think Burger King makes the BEST. BURGERS. EVER. Or those crazies who think when aliens invade, they'll want to be our friends. OR the people who think everyone is inherently good (insert insane, screechy laughter here) We know who we are.
Like my armpits. I waxed them last night. Best decision I ever made. You might disagree, but it is only my reality that counts.
And the upcoming holidays. I bet if I spend this holiday season sober, I'll find out football is boring, my dad isn't funny and I really cannot play the guitar. It's all about perspective.
