I have been very conscious of not using my 'blahg' as a dumping ground for my emotional basket case of an existence, but when I was on the plane from NYC last night I decided that maybe if I shared some of my inner turmoil that perhaps I may be able to have guests attend my Pity Party. You see, I feel awful when I complain because I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, a perfect (for me) love, my health, well, physical (mental could be disputed). My middle class dilemmas seem so lame in the grand scheme of things but unfortunately (or fortunately) this is my life and I am going to spill my beans because maybe someone out there is as neurotic as myself and is feeling like no one understands them or you can read this and let out a sigh of relief that your life is so much better than mine. So just like that my little ditty of a blahg is going to go from D.I.Y to C.R.Y and then some. Don't feel sorry for me, I already feel plenty sorry for myself.
So my boss, the devil, uhm, no that's too kind, shoot, what if I get Googled and then he knows my true feelings? Okay, my 'friend's' boss sent me to New York (isn't that what all your friend's bosses do?), and really it's NOT as glamorous as it sounds. I will tell you ALL about it when I have recovered from the actual trip. Now I need to tell you about my flight last night because it was particularly bananas:
I don't know why I am so easily annoyed, but I just am. Why would it bother me on a cross country flight that my seat mate would decide to play marathon air keyboard the entire time? I know this shouldn't have bothered me and I tried to ignore him but I kept getting glimpses of his blur of fingers in my peripheral vision, why this made me want to break his knuckles was beyond me. The real proverbial cherry on top was the snack that people were buying for this five plus hour flight--TUNA. Yes, TUNA, who thought this was a good idea? Is the person that suggested this snack and got the thumbs up still a part of the snack picking team? I mean, I am no snack expert per se, but even I would know better than to have tuna ordered for a 3,000 mile flight in a metal encased thing with recycled air. Lest you think I am making this stuff up (I really am not that creative), I took a photo of the offending snack for posterity:
I apologize for the shoddy photography, I wasn't sure if flash was allowed in-flight and didn't want to risk that photo documentation of said bad snack idea was prohibited.
Anyways, back to me, just Joshin', I miss you all really I do...
