I was watching a late night infomercial, (sadly, not the one with women's undergarments) when someone asked me if I was being my authentic self. Of course I was, wasn't I?
All my life I have done what I was told. I learned all my lessons, and stayed the course. I went to church AND synagogue. I am a genuine dyed in the wool, home-spun, boy next door. My entire demeanour breathes wholesome rascal. I was a Boy Scout. How could I be anything else?
I admit I am prone to having my train of thought wander off track and veer into the occasional drunken rant. From time to time I have let the windmills of my mind grind the grain of my distemper into a flour of angst and scorn. After that I usually get baked and sup upon the bitter sweet breads of my imaginings.
Am I being authentic, or cranky?
What if it is more than just crankiness? What if I am a curmudgeon? Could it be I am one property away from berating the presence of children and their caterwauling? The smell of lavender, mothballs and cardigans begins to fill my senses. I need a 'step in tub', and a 'snuggie'. Why is it so DAMN cold in here?
Perhaps a pleasant blended drink to placate the jangle of my underdone nerves. The rattle of the Christmas claptrap has my festive balls on edge. I need a hobby.
Just sayin'...
All I know for sure is I need to stop the hurt that aches in my heart. Mostly it is gas, but it could be an indicator of an underlying condition. I might have acute angina. Please don't stare. It makes people uncomfortable.
It is another day, and so far nobody died. Wait, let me check my pulse first...
DaBuoy
"From time to time I have let the windmills of my mind grind the grain of my distemper into a flour of angst and scorn. After that I usually get baked and sup upon the bitter sweet breads of my imaginings."
ReplyDeleteweighty -- and wheaty!
perhaps your rye wit needs to sow some wild oats
a cute angina? sounds naughty!