Nonsense

Nonsense…

I have googled myself, but I have never emailed myself. I am emailing myself to see if it will work, which I cannot imagine why it would not. I could certainly write a letter to myself, put it in an envelope with a stamp and mail it and receive it at my home (probably the very next day). Why would email be any different? More mental masturbation for a mind in need of stimulation!

I have decided that ignorance is not just "bliss". Ignorance is utterly orgasmic. Ignorance is the best thing that could happen to someone. I am spacy, but not ignorant and that is a true handicap. It is like the book Flowers for Algernon. I am fully aware of how incredibly spacey I am becoming and yet I cannot stop the deterioration. Yet, as my close friend DF (all friends will be disguised poorly by my using their initials instead of their full names) once said, “B, you are the dumbest smart person I have ever known.” I can see through people and read situations and analyze dysfunctional families all at the speed of sound. I have a heightened intuitive sense that allows me to tell if someone is lying, or hiding pain, or trying to build themselves up by tearing others down. It is a gift. Perhaps I am some sort of savant, because the other side of my intelligence is as shallow as a teaspoon of water.

My life often includes items similar to the ones found on the following “To Do List” which I successfully completed over the last several weeks:

Forget to pick up kids at various times throughout the week. Check
Forget to take kids to various lessons (piano, skating, tutor). Check
Meet the same person 15 times, go out to dinner with him/her and still manage to forget his/her name. Check
Leave bills unpaid for no reason. Check
Burn grilled cheese in toaster over. Check
Overboil eggs until all water is gone and house fire alarm is triggered. Check
Leave empty house without closing garage door. Check
Don't show up for plans made and written on both calendar carried in purse and hung on wall in kitchen. Check.
Never ever remember anyone's birthday, including future sister-in-law who has the same birthday as I do. Check
Stare blankly at Carpet Cleaners ringing the doorbell while having no recollection whatsoever of calling them and making an appointment. Check.
Tell everyone you want to be a writer and then spend all my time daydreaming about how unproductive I am. Check

I have finally figured out my true calling, and why I feel like the ultimate failure. It has to do with following your own true desires. But first you have to know what your own true desires are. If you do not find and follow your true calling, you are destined to despair.

I Want to Sing in a Rock and Roll Band. Which is why I will eternally be unhappy. I don't want to be "with" Bruce Springsteen. I want to BE Bruce Sprinsteen. Does he hear the music and write the words at the same time. Why can't I "hear" the music in a way that would allow me to understand how it is MADE. I can only hear it to enjoy it and be emotionally moved by it. I cannot carry a tune, find a beat, clap my hands at the same time as everyone else in the audience, yet I know deep down I was suppose to be Debra Harry or Linda Ronstadt. How did I screw this up? By not being born with the talent necessary to pursue my dreams, that is how! Who can I blame? Not myself! I did not make me. I came as I am, birthday suit and all. No, this is a cruel joke being played out by some higher being. As a child I reveled in entertaining my family with endless hours of singing and dancing. I never realized they were just being polite and I was a sucky six year old boring them.

Now I have my own children. Which must be the fate of all fallen rock stars who were not able to sing, a life sentence in motherhood. I hear the dreaded words “watch me” as they attempt to entertain themselves on the trampoline, shooting baskets, jumping rope, performing dance routines they made up and singing songs I hate. Why do children need an audience? It just sets them up for failure like it did me. Delusions of grandeur grow like weeds on my front lawn. I give up. Next time, I am going to make my children watch me! That will teach them a lesson or two.

So you are probably wondering how the hell I got off onto that tangent after starting an entry about how spacey I am, but I am afraid I cannot answer that question because I don’t remember. What day is it??