An Excess of Toothbrushes
Well it seems this E-Cig business is more confusing than I thought. On two occassions now I’ve casually picked up a biro and tried to smoke it. I think I must be having one of ‘those days.’ As you do! Least I’ve not reached for a real one.
In fact it’s definitely been a back to front day. Today I’ve been wearing a green and red stripey sock and a plain black sock. I usually manage different shades of black or grey socks at the very least, even if they are from different pairs. I suppose I should be thankful that I haven’t ended up with my tee shirt on back to front and my pants on inside out too. Maybe I do have something to be grateful for after all.
I think I’m over tired. I’ve not done much today, but my brain has been in over drive. Thinking about careers or the lack of them, thinking about where I’m going with what I’m doing or not doing, thinking about how the weather just won’t make its mind up about anything. Rather like someone else I could mention, ie. me. Do you know I once spent two tortorous months with six toothbrushes in our toothbrush tub in the bathroom? I couldn’t decide which to throw in the bin because they all looked reasonable, but we had no need for extra toothbrushes unless our cat decided it needed its teeth cleaning too. It irritated me intensely that they sat there crowding the tub on the side of the sink but I couldn’t get rid of any of them because of my complete inability to make a decision. I eventually chucked one of them when I found Sausage ramming it down the plughole and it was covered in black gunk. Even I had to make a decision then.
I’ve been like that all my life. When I was at school they used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I didn’t know, but I quite enjoyed writing and wanted one day to write a book. Since then nothing much has changed. I still don’t know and still would quite like to write a book one day. The problem is about what? I appear to be writing a very long winded bloggy book about parenting and an excess of toothbrushes.
Dear Father Christmas or the Easter Bunny or Jim’ll Fix It, please could I have a career for Christmas or Easter – or at the very least a sense of direction? Thanks. I’m off to brush my teeth and go to bed now. I’m not even sure which is my toothbrush at all, I keep forgetting which colour is mine. Mind you, at least I know it’s not the blue one shaped like an elephant at the bottom or the orange one that looks like a teddy bear.
Funny in a sad kind of way. I could never play Pool very well either, I kept forgetting which colour ball I was trying to pot half way through the game. Story of my life!