30 Minutes

Of free writing.

Ready, go.

I've been reading blogs for the past 30 minutes. And when I do that, I like to write in my own. Or maybe I had a feeling that I wanted to write something tonight, but instead I sat down and read other blogs instead.

When I read other blogs sometimes I get jealous. I think to myself, "Damn, I sometimes think that too. Why didn't I write that?"

But I don't write it because I feel like it would partially be plagiarism even though I would try to write it in a way that would sound like I was saying it.

I've been told that before. That I write like I speak. Or at the least that people can hear my voice when they read my words. I find that interesting. Maybe it's because I'm saying the words in my head as I am typing them?

Maybe.

I wanted to write for 30 minutes because I didn't want to sleep yet. I have been tossing and turning lately when I go to bed, even though I might be physically exhausted. Ever since I got back to Washington my right eye has been twitching. I wouldn't say I'm under a lot of stress, but maybe it's just a lot of little stresses that are messing with me. I wanted to write "stressers" or "stressors" but neither of them are actually words. Dumb.

For example, our garage is full of our crap right now. Or at least crap we haven't figured out where to put yet. When we left for Charleston I don't remember thinking we had packed that much and yet we had come home with more. Or at least it felt like more. Or at least when I got home I felt just fine with the things I had when we got here, then another 700 pounds of crap showed up one rainy night.

Oh I love the rainy night such a beautiful sight.

Not really.

So with all the crap in the garage we get to fit one car in there, and of course the brand new car goes in the garage so mine gets to sit outside...and I get to scrape off the frost tomorrow and freeze my hamstrings off tomorrow morning. See, little things.

I check the weather in Charleston every day and day dream about walking the dog (sad) down to the river.

Instead I get to walk her up to power lines that run to the substation almost a mile away. And have to cover my hands and ears with clothing because I am afraid they'll fall off. Not really, I'm being dramatic.

I try to rub the stress out of my twitching right eye but it doesn't work. I looked up causes and solutions to it but the internet - as it is probably about a third of the time I use it, was not completely helpful.

I mean, when was the last time any of us said, "I know for a fact that X". Where "X" equals something you know stone cold and hasn't been disproven (which blogger says isn't a word). I can hardly say it. I have to preface things with, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that X". Why? Because Wiki will probably provide us with the answer. Who needs a brain (or Jeopardy?) when you've got wiki? And yes, I know even wiki can be wrong.

Wow, 9 minutes and I feel like I've gone down the wrong path on this post. I want to make a u-turn but I don't want to go back to what I originally was writing about.

We completely redesigned my "office" this past weekend. Paint. New shelves. Movement of furniture. New track lighting. All assuming that I'll be moving home with my job soon. I got a pretty sweet graphite or dark sand looking paint color in my room. I added this gold fleck to remind me of that dark sand color - sometimes you'd see the sand sparkle in the sun/moonlight when I was at the beach.

I was just thinking before I wrote this post - and as I was reading all the different blogs I follow that there's just too much out there. There's too much information available to us every day. Too many TV channels. Millions of web sites. So we put blinders on, or we try to condense as best as possible. It has almost become a chore for me to keep up on things I "enjoy". I don't think it's supposed to be that way. Jeez - that sounds like one of those questions that people ask you in regards to depression. "Do the things that you would normally enjoy not seem fulfilling any longer? Depression doesn't hurt just you, but it also hurts those around you."

I like to think that this is going to prevent the tossing and turning tonight. I like to think that all of the thoughts that keep me up at night I can throw out on this. I like to think I'll wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed. I like broccoli.

16 minutes. And at least 2 of them wasted looking down at the keyboard and trying to listen to my thoughts.

I am thinking that I wish I had written in the earlier part of this post about how some bloggers have this way of writing about things outside of themselves. How they do such a good job describing things and including very little about their own thoughts. I was thinking about how my blog is not even close to that - although sometimes I try. I was thinking how I didn't want to write this at this portion of this post because reading this now makes it seem like I'm scatterbrained. Which at times I can be.

For the past 4 days I've meant to call my dentist. For the past 8 years I've meant to give them my phone number instead of my parent's phone number. Then again, my parents could always give my dentist my phone number too. But maybe they like that little portion of parenting they have left. Every 6 months they get to call me and remind me that I've got a dentist appointment coming up. I get along with my dentist because 1) He is Asian (albeit Japanese) 2) He went to UW 3) He loves the Seahawks and actually helps track stats at every home game for them.

So like every good man to man relationship, we can always talk sports. Or, at least I can try my best to talk while my mouth is open. I wish I could get a cleaning every other week instead of once every 6 months. Within a couple days I feel like my teeth have reverted back to their old dirty ways (not really, I floss every other day and brush twice daily).

I've turned around a couple times because I see the reflection in the TV that's sitting on the desk in front of me. I think someone is creeping up behind me. But really it's just the movement of my fingers typing.

And then for some reason I was thinking about watermelons talking while I was writing about my dentist. I don't like to eat watermelon and people think I am crazy. I don't like the taste or the texture. It's kind of like a flimsy pear that was injected with water to me but with not that great of flavor. Give me an apple any day please.

But can you imagine walking in to a Top Foods (random store I know) and going in to the produce section and all of the watermelons were just chatting it up. All they had were mouths and when they talked you could see in to what I guess would be their throats. I would be creeped out seeing people throw watermelons in to their carts. I wonder what they would say when they were separated from the others.

Pretty good for 25 minutes so far.

Now on to the home stretch.

I have way too much crap that's got sentimental value. I wish things would be like this blog. Full of interesting stuff (for me to read) and it doesn't take up any of my own space at all. Like I wish I could send in something like my Bear Stearns Squeeze Bear which sits proudly atop my office desk - send it in to some company where they crush whatever you have way down to something that's maybe a millimeter thick and they place it in to a lock box for you. You pay a yearly fee of something like $25 and they just hold your compressed crap like that. Maybe someday you're thinking to yourself that you'd like to bring back some good memories by looking at your sentimental stuff so you go to them, pick out the things you'd like to see and they, I guess, reanimate them for you. Bring them back to actual size.

And when you're done having a jolly reminisince you can tell them to crush it back down to size and keep it for later.

I'm going to spend the next 1 minute reading back through this post.

Yes, I never denied being weird.