Sorry if I used the title “Nothing About Fish” before in one of my million blogposts. I can’t remember. But when our daughter Tesia was in grade school her class had an assignment to put together a book of recipes. This is all ancient history and I don’t remember the details but that is what it was entitled. I have always chuckled over that.
It is sort of off center like everything else around this crazy Island. One of our Island friends stopped over to chat a couple of days back. We love him dearly but man is he quirky. Of course we are not quirky ourselves only other people. Anyway he is struggling through a hard period in his life with a cancer project and resulting nasty chemo. No hair is just a minor part of it. He was telling us the details to all that and yes I can remember stuff like that for sure and he had a lot to carry all at once. Somewhere during his visit we switched over to talking about his bible class and he got so amazing animated at that point like a switch was flipped, total drama.
This is so us. We may have all these crazy things happening in our lives, good and bad, and most of the time we are as reasonable as heck but then there is one area of our lives where all our drama oozes out. And we defend our drama like it is totally reasonable and if you have a problem with it it must be your fault. I have car and truck drama and here is a good one, plumbing drama. Plumbing really brings out the best and worst in me. And I think my carrying on is perfectly reasonable of course.
Now here is a crazy one. My Rebecca practices, are you ready, knitting drama. Can you believe that, I say? Just how important could knitting possibly be, right? But it just all comes gushing and oozing out at that point. See that’s the point, to someone else your drama seems the ultimate in goofy while their drama is something to pay attention to.
Of course this tendency probably is amplified by our current quarantine situation. I saw a good FaceBook thought today. It was, remember when your Mom said, “Keep it up and I will slap you into the middle of next year!” Is that offer still open? Hold my beer.
middle of next year loves, Felipé.