I stopped eating healthy. I felt so good I didn’t recognize the feeling and thought something was wrong.
When I was in elementary school, the teachers ignored the students. In the 8th grade I built an entire automobile in the rear of my classroom. The teacher didn’t notice until I drove the car to the front of the class to hand in my history report.
From my book Good Morning: Your Guide to Utter Nonsense Available on Amazon.
I awoke thinking it was February 5th. It wasn’t. It was July 7th. I looked around my bedroom. I didn’t recall painting it blue. I didn’t recall having a bed. My wife came into the room and threw a kiss. That wasn’t like her. She usually threw a punch.
I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. I heard the sound of laughter. Three children walked in and called me “Dad”. I recognized one of them. The boy named “Chip”, but who were the other two? Throughout my life, I have had periods of confusion but this was different. I couldn’t say how though, because I was confused.
In the corner, I spotted suitcases. Was I going on vacation or did someone move in to help pay the rent? I asked Chip about the suitcases and he reminded me they were part of a sculpture I was making. Huh? Sculpture? That would explain the hammer and chisel on the floor.
My wife handed me a bar of soap. She said it was mine and to put my name on it. I said it’d wash off when I used it. “Then don’t use it,” she said.
My mother never gave me a bath as a baby. Instead, she strapped me to the roof of the car and drove through a car wash.
I have been in and out of group therapy for years. I simply wanted to meet girls but it didn’t work out as planned. One woman proposed to me. When I declined, she proposed to the therapist.
I joined an all-male group. It was déjà vu. One gentleman popped the question; I declined, so he proposed to the therapist. (They’re honeymooning in Paris.)
It was time for individual therapy. On my first day the therapist, a woman, also proposed to me. Sensing a pattern, I wanted to discuss it. Ignoring me, she continued to flirt. I pressed the issue while she got down on one knee to repeat her proposal. I got down on both knees to ask, “Why does this keep happening to me?”
She persisted. I changed the subject. I spoke of family issues, fear of voting, believing I am a king, convinced I was Marilyn Monroe, having a fear of bread – these are actual problems I have. Nothing worked. She continued asking for my hand.
I considered changing therapist (again) but with my luck, someone else would ask to marry me. I suggested my individual sessions be expanded to “group”. Surprisingly she agreed, but only if I considered her proposal. I said, “Maybe.”
Our first group session included 3 women and 3 men. I assumed (hoped) the problem had ended. It didn’t. Everyone in the group, including the therapist, proposed. Presently I have 7 people asking for my hand. The only positive thing I can say is now I have a choice.
From my book – Good Morning: Your Guide to Utter Nonsense
I belong to a support group for people who smell like cheese. Lately there has been infighting in the group. The people who smell like cheddar are trying to kick out the people who smell like swiss.
I took a stand today against wearing a fur coat. I bought one made of broccoli.
I applied for a library card and was denied. I was too short.
My father was an old-fashioned provider. He hunted with a bow & arrow. There was never a problem until he came to the canned-good section in the supermarket.
I considered becoming a political revolutionary until I learned the hours weren’t steady and you couldn’t collect unemployment.