June 16, 2006

Tracking With Loose Associations

I do believe I’m having a stroke. It’s amazing how multi-task-oriented I have been so far today. I’m tracking time-sensitive projects accurately, and filling in the down time with the necessary chores to be done in anticipation of our company this weekend. What gives? I’ve been keeping up a noteworthy pace all day. I can’t explain it other than a stroke. It just has to be.

It’s hot here in Minnesota. As Matthew Broderick’s character in Biloxi Blues would say, “it’s Africa hot.” (By the way, Sarah Jessica Parker is so not worthy of Matthew Broderick. He is just so adorable and she is just so … angular. I’m pretty sure Matthew is completely mad about her great boobatude, but those legs … those hands … hag material if you ask me. Check her out in another fifteen years. I guarantee she will not age well. Poor Matthew. He deserves so much better.) Today it got up to ninety degrees with a humidity level of about 85%. Maybe it’s the heat that caused my stroke. Heat stroke. Yeah, that’s it.

Something I did today that was a huge mistake: I made an online order to a company in West Virginia. Ever since I placed the order I’ve had that John Denver song playing endlessly in my head. You know, “take me home country roads, to the place I belong. West Virginia.” I used to love John Denver, when I was about fourteen. These days I don’t need that song in my head for ten minutes much less for six hours. Goes to show what playing a record (yes, I'm from the era of vinyl) nonstop when you are a hormonally charged young teenager will get you – in middle age you will be tormented by the music simply for placing an online order. What strange connections our minds make the more we fill them with information. I wonder if, when I’m eighty-five, something obtuse will trigger the song Whole Lotta Love. Wouldn't that be marvelous?! Led Zeppelin is much better to have pumping through a brain than John Denver. I wonder if, when I’m eighty-five, Robert Plante will make me feel mushy "down there."

But I digress. My productive day is in preparation for the weekend of nonstop Father’s Day celebrations. Saturday Faux-Ma and Faux-Pa will be dining with us for Faux Father’s Day (according to Faux-Ma, celebrations don’t count unless they’re held on the day), and Sunday we’ll be dining with my family. Dads and dining. This is what will fill my weekend. Well, I guess it could be worse. Couldn’t it?

1 comment:

Linda said...

I thought I was the only one who thought Sarah Jessica Parker had
hideous hands and feet. In one of the episodes of Sex and the City she's buying shoes and she asks for a size 7 - give me a break! I wear a size 7 and there's no way she could get those Sideshow Bobs into my shoes!