And I’m fussy in the strangest way. Like, for example, I will insist on my dream car being burgundy – not dark red. But I will forget that I haven’t changed my jeans in a week, or cleaned my carpet in a month. I will obsess against fingerprints on my monitor or glasses, but will happily sit at said monitor when my house hasn’t seen a broom, duster, mop, or any attempt at tidiness in … a very long time. Really, some things just escape my notice. Call it selective fussation.
No, that’s not a real word.
Despite my fussiness, or perhaps because of it, I wonder about certain things. Things like ‘the truth will set you free’ being utter bull, because in most instances, like say, cheating, stealing, comments concerning weight loss et al, the truth will get your rear kicked. Haiya!
Things like humans insisting that patience is a virtue, then bending over backwards to invent endless instant things, from microwaves to nescafé. Things like why bulls**t is a swear word, but cowdung isn’t. Continue reading