When my mind wanders
Have you ever had a thought so bizarre you were like, “Thank God nobody can hear my thoughts! I would have invited scrutiny upon my mental health with that one.”
That’s precisely the kind that makes up the majority of my thoughts each and every day.
While my 3.5-year-old was recently watching the Peppa cartoon about a family of talking pigs, I realized I have a little crush on Daddy Pig. It’s his cheerful personality I find attractive. And the British accent doesn’t hurt. Regardless of whatever shenanigans are going on in his home, Daddy Pig maintains a pleasant and patient disposition. These qualities are very attractive in a man. In this case, a pigman, but you get what I mean. If you’re not familiar with the Peppa cartoon, congratulations, you’ve made the right choices in life.
You know what else is attractive is when a tough guy carries his carton of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve of his t-shirt. That is the hottest way to carry your future cancer.
When scientists announced that sitting is the new smoking, did all the smokers run out into the streets cheering and lighting up? “Take that, all you sitters! Smoking has moved down to #2 on the list of deadly habits.”
Have you tasted cough syrup lately? This stuff has come a long way! It’s like Capri Sun for adults. My favorite is the green nighttime syrup. Not only does this cure what ails you, it puts you into a euphoric state. I’m still taking shots of this stuff long after my cold is over.
My husband is like, “You’re an addict! You’ve got to get this under control!” I’m like, “Stop — you’re killing the vibe!” He’s on the phone with a drug counselor: “Hello, yes, I’m calling about my wife. She’s on…she’s on the syrup!”
This stuff is the perfect street drug. It’s legal, it’s highly available, and it’s cheap. You don’t have to go down to the street corner with a fistful of cash to buy happiness from your dealer anymore. You can find euphoria at your local CVS. Buy store brand green syrup to save yourself a few coins. Grimace now, thank me later!
You know that old tip to help you get over stage fright? That you’re supposed to imagine the audience in their underwear? Forget that — it’s useless. If I’m standing in a room where everyone else is in their underwear, that’s going to make me even more self-conscious because I’m overdressed. Here’s the real tip: The way to overcome stage fright is to imagine that the audience is more afraid of you than you are of them.
My mother always told me, “Three’s a crowd.” That was her answer whenever I wanted to have two friends over at the same time. This was a funny statement coming from the parent of five children. If three’s a crowd, then five is a carbon footprint that really got away from you.
Why is everyone a nervous pooper? Nobody wants anyone else to know that they have to defecate. I have a friend that used to leave work, go all the way home to poop, then go back to work because he felt too uncomfortable using the office bathroom.
Every living creature has to defecate, so why are we so bashful about it?
I can always tell when a woman in a public bathroom is defecating because the second I swing open the door and enter, whatever noise was just occurring inside one of the stalls immediately comes to a halt. Toilet paper was clearly being torn off the roll, but now there’s dead silence. I go into my stall, answer the call of nature, then go wash my hands. All the while, this lady in the other closed stall still hasn’t moved a muscle. She thinks I won’t know she’s there, or why she’s there if she doesn’t make any sound. But I can see her two feet under the stall door, so I know someone is there. And if there’s silence, it tells me everything I need to know. There might as well be an announcement over the loudspeaker: “Ms. Baker is now pooping in stall #4.”
Why not just let it rip, ladies? We’re all in this together.
I want my therapist to be like Google Maps. As you’re driving, a robotic female voice tells you to take the first exit in the roundabout, take a sharp right, keep left at the fork. This service is one I would pay for.
Instead, my therapist is like God: she works in mysterious ways. But I just want a straightforward answer! What should I do in a given scenario, how should I react, what should I avoid? She’s not telling!
I’m chock full of meandering thoughts and questions such as these, but I’m afraid I have very few answers.