Nothing Profound

• So as I'm driving to work this morning, this white Dodge charger speeds up behind me. I'm thinking "golly molly, if you're in a hurry go around me." My thoughts:

1.  If it were a police car, it would be a dumb thing to speed up 'cause I could see a possible ticket looming in my future.
2.  If he were a police officer, he really could go around.
3.  If it wasn't, then they'd just have to suck it up, buster. I wasn't about to speed on his behalf. 

Turned out to be some teenage guy with a lead foot. Punk.

• Waking up a minute before my alarm saved me one of those lovely little heart attacks, you know the kind? Especially when you fumble around in the dark to turn the obnoxious thing off and wheel and deal your time down to mere seconds.

• It drives me semi-insane when someone's total is anything & one cent, and they give me a $20. Really, you couldn't scrounge around your car for a penny or something? No, no. That's fine, just let me count out all that change for you. * smiles *

• How many places can that "A fool and his money are soon partying" taxi be? Round, round. Get around, it get's around ...

• "If the happiness of one person were to be put into a single glass bottle, it would surely break into a million tiny pieces."

• The most tragic thing that happened to me today came in the form of a $40 price tag on possibly some of the most amazing shoes I've ever laid eyes on. Tried them on once, thought "Hmm. I shouldn't ..." took them off and walked away. Five minutes later after walking around the store, very much uninterested in anything else, I tried them on again. And thought to myself, "Oh save my poor wretched soul, I've done a bad thing."

• Why does threatening to poke someone in the eye with a steak knife have to make me laugh? I can't punish an angry 6 year old with a straight face because the whole "I lost me eyeball" scene from Pirates of the Carribean came to mind just then. Oh, the misfortunes of exhausted humor and too much tv ...

• Nation Pam is on your Sam. I've heard this a handful of times as Joshy sits on a pile of couch pillows beside me. Then tells me, "Brit, I can't think of anymore songs." This is tragic, yall. *smiles*

• I hate it when I'm trying to be a good big sister and really lay down the law, and say "You don't like a set bed time? It's not a punishment ... it's called being a 10 year old." and the reply is "I'm not 10! I'm eleven." Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I believe my point is lost somewhere in forgetting the munchkin's age. *head bang*