My people do some brilliant things with tequila
I may not understand the words, but I get the feeling
Hundred pages in and just realized that I have already read this book. Perfect metaphor of my life.
Make big decisions quickly, and let the unimportant trivial items occupy all your time.
I don’t like pie. I make pie. Only I like it. Maybe this should tell me something.
Apathy and disinterest are apparently the new sexy.
Things that didn’t work and weren’t appealing on the right side are improved when on the left.
I have a knack for attracting the already attached. (You would think they would know better)
Those who figure me out before knowing my neuroses firsthand freak me out
My self esteem is derived by the homeless junkies who hang on my block who tell me I am pretty
Anything said with an accent is insert superfluous superlatives here.
The act and accomplishment of of seeing a neat little pile of non-spinning plates is satisfying. Many of the ones that crashed down to the floor I realize were becoming worn and trite in thier pattern anyways.
However, some plates continue to be dearly missed.
Is it the person or the day that causes the debacles?
How can you thank someone for answering?
Since when are hill runs a good idea in situations such as these?
Did all the people there think I had allergies or that he was a meanie?
Why did I think a garage sale would be a good idea? For anything??
Why do I attract so many argumentative and intense people?
Why do I agree to such crazy propositions? And get disappointed when it is not as crazy as it could have been?
Why did the anger and disappointment wait till now to come out?
Why do I watch a train wreck with such fascination and not just walk away?
How did I think this would work out?