Moldy day
Have you ever had a day that was kind of…moldy? It’s like depression, but more like a citrus fruit rind that has been abandoned just long enough to start molding a bit. Then when you find it in the back of the fridge you sort of inner-curse-to-yourself, cut off the bad piece and toss it, and move on with your day. But imagine yourself as the bad piece of fruit. It’s like, you’re in the grocery store one day when someone promising that seems to be looking for a yummy lime finds you. Lifts you up, smells you, squeezes you, and then picks you! Yes, you say to yourself. Someone wanted me, to use me for their nourishment, what a great deal! They take you home and put you in the fridge. A few days go by (which is an eternity in fruit years), and you get so grumpy, pissed, and well, all around neglected that you begin to grow mold on your outer coat. And then, your not-so-special-now-rotten-bastardo-psuedo-friend comes back to find you, and what does he do? He cuts that piece of you off, looks at you like it’s your fault, and throws it away. What a rotten day that lime must’ve had. Any way, that’s how I feel. Not for any reason that I can figure out, just because I guess. Sometimes, I suppose, we all have days like this.
We have a local grocery store here called Sherm’s Thunderbird. Yes, it’s a grocery store and yes, it looks like a bowling alley from the outside. Oh, and yes it’s name reminds me of a bowling alley. When you buy a lime from Sherm’s at the stunning low price of 4/$1.00, you need to use that lime right away. We let this lime sit for three days. Three days, and then you have to start cutting off the pieces and tossing them. Can you imagine if everything in life worked this way? I don’t want to. If I think about stuff like that for too long I end up feeling like cooked wheat pasta that’s been in the fridge for weeks now with hairy-old-man-facial-hair type mold spawning from the tiny spaces of air throughout the bowl.
And now I think I’ve officially derailed on this entry. The point is getting blurrier by the sentence. I think that, as the reader, you should know that the longer you read this entry the dumber you will become. Brain cell loss is almost guaranteed from here on out. The tribe does perform random UA (drug tests) on all of it’s employees and at this point, I’m pretty sure I’ll be called in for one tomorrow. Oh well. Who needs mood altering drugs when your thought process is enough to alter your mood completely from one moment to the next.