Not really. Time is not on my side, but that was the tune running through my head so that's the subject line you get so there :)~~~
Anyway, it's late and I haven't much to say tonight. What is going through my head right now is what the hell I am going to pull out of the freezer to make for dinner tomorrow night. That's sad. I should be pondering deep and mysterious things, but noooo... I am thinking about what I am going to shove down the family's mouths tomorrow after I drag in from work.
On the other hand, here's a thought: I had this creative writing teacher in 12th grade, I think her name was Mrs. Sullivan. I sometimes wonder what she would be thinking about my journal writings. She didn't much care for my writing when I was in her class. Unlike my mother, writing was not a passion of mine back then. Don't get me wrong, I loved writing stupid stories and very bad poetry, it just wasn't some all consuming passion of mine.
My passion was my music. It was singing. Here's the sad part about that. It's my personal opinion (and that of my piano teacher back in 4th grade) that you need to be pretty good at math to be a good musician. I was piss poor at math. I still am. Now don't get me wrong, as long as you played a tape or sang a song for me the way it was to be sung and let me listen to it a few times, I could mimic what you did to perfection. But if you threw the actual sheet music at me and told me I had to read the actual time meter and give the notes their mathmatical value as I sang, well, you just lost me there baby. I spent more time trying to do the math than actually getting notes out of my mouth. It was the same with musical intruments too. Just play it for me, let me hear it and I will play it back for you correctly.
Which is why I was never a very good musician. I sucked at best. Unless I was singing and playing my own songs. Then I was not too shabby.
Well, Mrs. Sullivan, this has gotten way off topic. But you see, that's ok, because well, THIS IS MY FUCKING BLOG! In my fucking blog, I can do whatever I want (grin). This is what being a grown up is all about, you can tell anyone and everyone to fuck off if you are so inclinded. Mrs. Sullivan no longer holds my grade point average by the balls. See this Mrs. Sullivan? This is my bank account. There's money in it, which was the whole point of that grade point average in the first place right? Like,the higher your GPA, the higher wages you will earn out in the real world? Wasn't that what it was all about?
See that's another nice thing about owning your own business. No one gives a rats ass about what college you went to or what your GPA was. They just want to know that you can do the job they are paying you to do. End of story.
And now it's time to go to sleep. Sleep sweetly, sleep sweetly, let nothing offend thee.... in calm contentment lie....
No comments:
Post a Comment