Much to my shock and chagrin, I realize I must change my views, because people born in the 70's are now, it appears, not only old enough to have opinions but children, jobs, responsibility, and fulfilling lives as well!
Some of them even have a birthday today, one of whom I know. It is to this person that I owe an apology for the very silly voicemail message left last night in a response to a request by a family member to leave voicemail messages in honor or their birthday.
I'm sorry, person to whom I left a very silly voicemail message last night - I should never have used 'gorilla' and 'happy birthday' in the same phrase, and I apologize. I was mic-shocked, and hadn't prepared well. This is what I should have said:
Happy birthday to one of the worlds Greatest Enunciators! You are to be congratulated on NEVER being misunderstood. As if that wasn't enough (because a life of clarity is to be celebrated!), you are also one of the most caring, creative, and clever people I've met. You really live out your best characteristics and therefore generate goodwill and great humor as a result. Also, I dig those inflatable buffet things and your accent.
Because, really, her accent (though I bet she doesn't think she has one) is crazily charming.
Not that this has ANYTHING to do with the above sentimentality, but I think you deserve to know that when someone screams 'you have floor ants!' you'd better run, and run FAST, because those suckers will be ON you in a heartbeat looking for anything at all to eat. What you should also know is that they don't like meat, so you're safe, but being covered with millions and millions of them is scary-bad and itch-inducing.
The good thing is they die within minutes of being released from the colony ball, so even though every available surface might be covered in a writhing mass of dark chitinous bodies, the really icky part doesn't last that long and in a little while you can go about the business of sweeping up.
And so now you know part of what I learned from my dreams last night.
This was about the ONLY good thing that happened in them. The other parts about the
- dreadful amusement park full of hazards; traps; and 'lazy bayou' mud bogs featuring fake alligators, kraken, and savages all surging out of the mud at you while you slog through them laden with giant bags of sugar on your back you're not allowed to get wet
- the giant octopus,
- elevators that take you noplace fast when you need to meet with the VP and don't have keys to your dorm room and might be, in fact, mostly naked and slightly singed
- old boyfriends appearing like moths at a light to serenade the crowds of people who are gathering around waiting for you to give a presentation you have no idea you were supposed to give and you're still muddy, slightly singed, mostly naked, and very very angry?
Not so good. Be glad I didn't tell you about them.
Well - it's time to go. The shower and work call me to activity. I'd stay here all day, you know, wandering around bumping into things, thinking of taking a nap or making something to eat, but people EXPECT things of me and need me to go to meetings and tell them stuff about things, and then think I might be at my desk waiting for them to swing by and catch up...which is annoying but has the happy side effect of paying the bills.
Begs the Question - If you won a mega-lottery and had all the money you ever needed, therefore didn't have to occupy yourself with a job or home work or other drudgely things, what would you do for the first week?
I think I'd spend it not telling anyone. I might keep going to work, reveling on the inside and feeling very superior to all the other working stiffs who didn't have millions in the bank. I might even shoot for mental haughtiness, recapturing the strong ego I had when I was young and believed I was better, stronger, and faster than most people around me. Ah, the salad days of youth, when the mirror of self-reflection was still firmly packed up in a musty corner of adulthood.
But that's just me - what about you?