Have to admit – I could not really be bothered to post today.
Thought about talking about how much better natural birth is to c section. And how the silly women of today have no real idea of what they’re really missing by getting their babies to fit in with theirs and the doctor’s schedule. Then again, we live in a very comfortable society. A time when people don’t really bother doing anything if they don’t really have to. And who even cares? They’re the moms that has to struggle with grommets and adenoids and lung issues, not to mention psychological issues. I’ve had my turn, and most people just hear what they want to hear in any case, so I’m not even bothering in that regard.
Then I thought of writing about bikers. How I envy them their freedom, and agility, speed. And how they don’t really deserve my envy. Why on earth would I ever be envious of a bunch of people that could not be bothered to say a simple thank you when I get out of your way? Or try to. Face it bloke, I don’t actually HAVE to let you pass between me and the car next to me. it’s a courtesy I give you. And I can guarantee that you will have many gestures should I not move when you want me to. Why not just say thank you? Won’t cost you a single thing. Then again, the people that should read this are not the reading type. More of a pictures kind of folk…
Then I thought of the movie, How Stella got her groove back. Enjoyed it immensely. And that got me to thinking about little T that was at work on Friday. A sweet young man. Good looking, nice voice. Thing is, he’s closer to my kid’s ages than he is to mine. And there are few things more sad than a piece of dried up, grey female, making a fool of herself over a young man. Not a situation I’m likely to let myself fall into. Still. There’s no reason a relationship like that has to fail. I think it could be good for both partners. The young man helping the old lady stay young, and the old lady tempering the youthful vigour slightly. Not to mention, enjoying it ;-). Only real problem there would be kids. I’ve had them, not planning on having more, so, if he wants kids, playtime will be significantly shortened.
I’ve been brewing on a cancer post for a long time. What do they mean by “Fight breast cancer”? You can’t fight it. It’s either there, or it’s not. The only control you have over it is to do your self examinations regularly, and listening to your body – it will tell you if there’s something wrong. But fight it, no way. And all these prayers for a cure for cancer – do you realise how many millions of people would be completely jobless should that happen? And since cancer is becoming more and more prevalent I’m thinking it’s just another way of pest control. A removal of the weak and ignorant, the ones with no recourse. Me being one of the last lot. If I get cancer now, I’m kinda screwed(for that matter, any serious illness!!) – state medical facilities are not quite worth their weight in gold, so I’ll likely die a horrible death in that case. And there’s just no fighting the Big Exterminator. Your line has been drawn, and it matters not when or how. Know that it’s there, and live whatever life you have as best you can.
A seriously scrambled post. As half decent as life is at the moment, nothing is certain. I only have a contract until the end of December. What I’m going to do after that is anybody’s guess, since I’m apparently still completely unemployable. Even for jobs that I have actually done at the same company I used to do them at. Strange thing that. But hey. It’s their loss. I mean, I was showed today how to do the PO’s for travel. Took me all of 10 minutes and 1 assisted PO, and I was A for away. But NOOOO. I’m not employable because I’m not black. Fine then. Something, somewhere will happen. It always does. I must just stand my ground, bend with the wind.
Let me leave you with my latest practice sessions on Guitar Hero.