The Deep Dark Trespasses of My Consciousness

Lately my mind has been begging me to write another post. Something witty, funny or just something different than "the usual." Problem is I don't actually have anything in particular to say. I've been wanting to write but keep finding an empty room full of dust and cobwebs where my brain should be. So today I just decided to write something. There's a possibility this will end up being a weird tangent of thought. That's what usually happens when I allow my brain to take the reins. I go off on a trip only to come to my senses ten minutes later wondering how I ended up on the topic of how I could get rich by inventing a mail eating robot. True story.

I've been having a lot of weird dreams lately. I must feel some sort of empowerment in my life now that I didn't used to have. I have a lot of dreams about people or other things (namely sharks) attacking me, and instead of the slow motion escape attempts from my past, I now find myself fighting back and winning. I kick ass in my dreams. Seth always finds it odd that I have so many dreams about sharks. It doesn't surprise me all that much. Sharks are one of those things that have always intrigued me. They're so magnificently terrifying. An incredibly powerful force that demands your attention. There are few things in this world which are able to simultaneously give me chills of excitement and dread. Like watching a horrible car wreck. To me it only makes sense that something I find so incredibly frightening would appear in my dreams on a regular basis. It's not often I have a good dream. Bad, indifferent, and weird. Those are the only kinds I have.

It is inevitable during my grocery shopping trips to view some sort of parent/child power struggle. It usually involves a disheveled looking mother pushing a screaming toddler in a shopping cart or a 4 year old whining about wanting a candybar. In these moments I'm quick to acknowledge the fact that although I may loathe grocery shopping, at least I still have the luxury of going alone. Something I'm sure will change with time. About a month ago I witnessed one of these power struggle spectacles and found myself silently judging the mother. Her son, who was obviously old enough to know better, had taken off running down the milk isle away from the harried woman who kept yelling, "I'm the parent here!" "You are not the parent!" I thought, "Oh that's just great. I'm sure he'll listen to you now. Sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than your child." But then I looked at myself with my no children and somewhat stress-free life and said, "You better watch it. You have no idea what that woman's life is like. In a few years you'll probably be her.  I'd like to see how you handle a brood of bratty children at the grocery store." It's amazing how easy parenting is when you don't have children.

I wonder how long I could survive if I was lost in the woods or stranded on a desert island. If I didn't have something to start a fire with, I'd probably be toast. Unless I could find a shard of glass or something. I'd be willing to bet I'd have less to survive on if I were stuck on a desert island. Mainly because it's highly likely I'd be washed up on shore from a sunken boat or a crashed plane. I don't know about you, but I don't carry much in my pockets for emergency survival purposes. I'd be lucky if I had a bobby pin and a couple pennies. Though, I could use the pennies to put on my eyes as I was about to die. That'd be kind of funny for someone to find later. I think I'd have better chances of survival if I was lost in the woods. I tend to carry too much stuff, if anything. My daypack has lighters, baggies full of dry lint, water purification tablets, a pair of crutches... ok maybe not crutches, but pretty much any other emergency survival item you can think of. Except extra batteries for my headlamp. But who needs a headlamp when they're lost? I also wonder if I'd have the guts to do something drastic if I was going to die. I mean like cutting my arm off with a dull knife or giving myself a bikini wax. I think my brain would be my downfall. If I got to the point where I was gonna either die or cut my arm off, I'd probably just reason that sure I might get my arm chopped off, but I was already too far gone to hike to civilization if I did and plus I'd probably bleed to death anyway. So, I think I'd just keep my arm and die there. Can you imagine going for a hike and finding a human skeleton? That would be kind of cool. Especially if the person had left a funny note. That's what I'd do. You gotta think about other people in these situations. If you know somebody is going to find your skeleton trapped under a rock you might as well give them a really good story to tell. Otherwise, what's the point? You might as well have chopped your arm off and started hiking.

Man these Fire Roasted Tomato Triscuit crackers are awesome. That is all for now. I told you this was going to be weird.