Think of “brain drain” as stream-of-concious thinking, a big blurb lacking organized thoughts. (sidenote: “Brain Drain” is a creative exercise for writers, found in the book “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron.) It’s really just dumping the trash out of my head. I do mine in a public medium because I’m feeling blog-y.
I still want to dance when I hear “Beat It” by Michael Jackson. The “Herbalife” diet is not so bad. Eliminating meals leaves a lot of time for thinking. It’s drizzling outside, typical behavior for March. “March” is a dumb name for a month. No wonder people have trouble learning english, because if I didn’t know better I’d think of people marching in military form everytime I thought of the month “March.” Dear Self: What are we going to do with our self? How about studying to pass the national massage therapy certification? 2 snaps up for getting back on the right path. But all things can change with time. I like you anyway.
Gotta maintain. A very insightful instructor once guided our yoga class thru an exercise and said “the plan is..to notice when you start losing control.” It was while holding one of those especially excrutiating “poses.” It was my first and last yoga class, but I will always remember that sentence.
I’ve been eating far less meat lately. (insert ‘that’s what she said’ joke here) Really I think less and less of it. Still, I could imagine going for a burger from ‘5 Guys Burgers & Fries’ on a really bad day. But the overall idea of the slaughterhouse industry is an inconvenient truth. Plus, our bodies don’t especially like meat. Red meat, at least. I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m an expert, because I can only take in all the grisly info in small doses. I get it, tho.
There’s a lot to be said for having a beautiful mind. Barely anyone was blessed with the most comfortable of genetics. It’s one thing or another. The idea of perfect outward beauty only makes up 2% of the population, unfortunately it’s the 2% of the population that’s on every magazine cover at the grocery store. I move to order all the magazines to the BACK of the store. Cosmo, Glamour, US Weekly, Life & Style, be gone from the cash register area we are all forced to stare at. Go away, 115 lb blond starlett, back to your place next to the Seafood counter. Goodbye, Brad, Jen, Angelina, Heidi, Spencer, any name that ends with ‘Kardashian,’ and even you Gerard Butler. I don’t want to see that anyone lost 45 lbs or is looking better than ever. Everyone who is not famous would subconciously heal.
My IPOD has been playing on “shuffle” mode all day while I clean my utilitarian hovel. The happy songs are the good moments. Then ‘Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ or someone else I must have downloaded on a downer day will come on and I remember the “fast forward >> feature” is there for a reason. (Note to self: end this random misery ! remove Cave from ITUNES library.) It’s 4:48 in the afternoon and the realization strikes that tomorrow is another work week, starting with Monday.
I live across the street from Shopper’s Food Warehouse. The view from my bedroom window features a glimpse of the back of the grocery empire and it’s peachy-pink exterior. Going to the store has never been so convenient. I still try to look presentable when I go in, because who knows where the elusive Mr. Right lurks? He could very well be perusing the produce aisle. But it’s usually dull. Today I stopped in to Shoppers to buy a few things; wearing a casually elegant shirt paired with ripped jeans. Quite uneventful; Gain Laundry Detergent is on sale for $2.50 and the lady in front of me at the self-check out aisle was a disgrace. Over 20 oblivious minutes of slow-motion fumbling. She probably could “screw up a one-car funeral” as my dad would say.
I bought cleaning items so now I have to go use them.