This whole blog thing is kind of an experiment so I can practice writing, and to see how bad of a typist I really am. I take my two index fingers and poke at the keyboard very slowly. Hopefully I'll get to the point where I can use all of my digits proficiently.
The other day I noticed my belly button for the first time in approximately ten years. I had completely forgotten that it even existed and I also remembered the last time I remembered I had one. When I was around nine or ten I didn't really know if I believed that my belly button was completely closed off. I had always been told that it was, but I really had no way of knowing. I wondered if it was secretly still open and letting stuff from the outside world into my organs and stuff. What if when I took a shower my stomach was getting full of soapy water? Would I die?
I have this way of running scenarios inside my head until they are very believable to me. I often think about how I would break the news to my family if it sudddenly turned out that I had cancer, or that I was dying in some other horrible way. That's weird of me I know, but true. I guess I just like being dramatic inside my head because I don't consider myself to be dramatic in the, "I'm having such a terrible day, I'm so depressed, I broke a nail, I need a hug and some hot cocoa" kind of way, if that makes any sense at all. I hope to be the "we set up two thousand chairs at work, I'm telling a really awesome story, or I can't believe he ate the whole thing!" exaggerated kind of dramatic. Maybe I'm not either or I'm both, I don't know.
Today we had sexual harassment training at work. I look forward to this all year, because every time they come harrassment goes up about 73%. I'm not kidding - I've got pie charts to back me up on this one. And then there are the jokes that ensue. Anytime anyone says or does anything we respond with a, "that's innappropriate"or "that's harrassment!". I love it. Plus the name "sexual harrassment training" makes it sound like they're teaching us how to harrass people. Ahh, I love my job.
Well, my two typing fingers are tired now so I'm calling it quits for today. Goodbye forever.
1 comment:
I've always wondered the same sort of things as your belly button crisis (often about my insides falling out, or getting tangled, or what have you), and always thought I was the only one. Clearly, I was mistaken.
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