December 3, 2007

Wherin big words flow from my fingertips

I thought, for about two seconds, about going out for breakfast this morning. I usually do not partake of morning fare, but the growling mountain lion in my stomach is insistent I provide some food. I was about to get ready to head for the drive-through when I remembered I did not eat my lunch yesterday and an Arby's roast beef was waiting for me in the 'fridge. Coupled with a cold Dr. Pepper, my hunger is now assuaged ( how about that, I do know words with more than one syllable). Add that to the two cups of coffee I had earlier and I am ready to meet the day.

Most of you know I am the quintessential (another big word -- and I have yet to consult the old thesaurus!) lurker in the old blog world. I read your writings and move on, rarely leaving comments. It is not that I do not have an opinion, but rather a sense that if I have nothing to add, I forgo leaving my thought droppings. I only wish I could find the same restraint in ordinary conversation. While I live for comments, I do not reciprocate(!). This weekend I found myself in a regular Chatty Cathy mood and left several comments around the blogosphere. Many of them did not show up or have disappeared. I am not sure if I was overly offensive, I have been baned from commenting, or my commenting skills are so rusty I failed to post them correctly. I tend to lean toward the incompetence theory. Too bad, the moment has passed and my brilliant insights are lost to the vast void of the Ethernet. Maybe it was sunspots?

Monday dawns a new week and the email circuits are hot. Just while writing this say-nothing post I have been interrupted four times with the pop up telling me I have new mail. The damn phone has rung also. If customers and co-workers would just leave me alone, I could get a lot more done. I need to do my monthly expenses again, but instead I am off to get an oil change in a bit. Then I travel to the far reaches of my territory tonight for an early morning meeting. First I have to attend my youngest kid's band concert this evening. Whoo, it is sure good to be me. There is nothing like spending a few hours at a middle school band concert then jumping in the car for a four hour drive. Can anyone say "soporific"?

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