Friday, August 19, 2016

The Art of Wasting Time

The Art of Wasting Time

The light came on, but no one was home when I was in Algebra class back in 1943. When something doesn't make sense it probably isn't very important anyway I rationalized; so I flunked it. Why should one cram something so abstract into the brain of a 15-year-old, and require them to take it a second year, which I barely passed? Wouldn't my time have been better spent learning something I had more of a flair for?

Oh well. It's all history now. Speaking of that, I didn't score very well in History either.

I sit here day after day looking at my four walls. Better than a prison cell. At least I can go some place if I want to. Most of the places I go to, I don't really want to. Such as the physical Therapy place.

Such a waste of my time. It's supposed to be for my own good, but it's really for their own good. They get a paycheck to tell me to swing my right leg to the right to the count of 15 and then they ask questions of how your day is and what do I do for fun. I can't multitask that well.

The first thing I do is sit on a huge machine and push the pedals to the medal for 20 minutes. They add more minutes every time I go. Enough is enough! These machines face huge windows and we face the bright sun. They have no shades for the windows. They thought I was brilliant when I whipped out a pair of those little shades the eye doctor gives you to slide behind your glasses. I had it stored in my bra. They thought that was brilliant too.

I also waste time going to the mailbox which is located in front of my house. All I ever find in that box is a useless piece of paper which goes directly in my trash can, but the postal service is required to deliver it.

This is the way I see it.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Funny, Isn't it?

Funny how twenty dollars looks like a lot of money when we're about to make a donation to charity, but it looks so small when we buy bread and milk.

Funny how long an hour of time feels when we're in church, but how short it seems when we're playing a game.

Funny how we hate cutting the grass but look forward to shopping and walking all over creation to buy a few things.

Funny how we watch our weight by washing down our hamburger and fries with a diet Pepsi .

Funny how we speed up to get to the next stop light sooner.

Funny how we can comprehend novels that are 500 pages long, but can't seem to figure out how to transfer photos from the laptop to the Cell Phone.

Funny how we can't think of anything to say when we pray, but can gab non-stop for hours when talking to a friend.

Funny how it takes hours of planning to go take care of a business problem, but when a friend calls and wants to eat out, it only takes two minutes to get ready.

Funny how this list could go on and on, but suddenly you have a case of brain freeze. 

Funny how when you're looking for a bathroom, there isn't one to be found.

Saturday, August 6, 2016

I'm On the Waiting List

I'm on the waiting list. I sit in more waiting rooms waiting for the sound of my name. I have nothing to do but wait. So wait it is. Waiting for the bank to clear up the fraud on my account. Waiting for the tomato to get ripe so I can pick it. Waiting to turn one year older. Speaking of that here are a couple of reminders of how old I am and how losing weight is also on the waiting list. 
I'm waiting for visitors from Tacoma so I'm killing time and waiting and waiting for my memory to kick in.

And Wishing