I have a coffee mug, given to me by a co-worker. It’s black and has white lettering which says: “I’m trying to be awesome today, but I’m exhausted from being so freakin’ awesome yesterday.” I love this mug. It says so much about me, especially the Morning Me, when I am decaffeinated. Or, as another co-worker so eloquently put it, “Unbrained.” Being unbrained is no fun. And no, we’re not talkin’ zombies, here.
Being told that I rock is another thing entirely. My response to being told today that I rocked was, “Yes. I occasionally do! Usually to AC/DC or Metallica. Just sayin’.” I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: I think I’m hysterical. On this particular occasion, the party to whom I was speaking took it exactly as it was meant; lighthearted banter. (We also discovered a mutual appreciation for liverwurst, but that’s another story.)
I began thinking about the strange and wonderful conversations I’ve had that amuse me as much as they amuse others. It amuses me (there’s that word again) that there are people in this world who just don’t appreciate my particular brand of humor/sarcasm/wit/what-have-you. (And please, don’t give me the, “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” comment. That belongs to those who have no sense of humor. Be gone with you!) In fact, I’ve even gone back later to re-read stuff I’ve written and have laughed at myself. One must laugh at oneself. Often. Otherwise, there’s something wrong.
Um…Jen? Do you have a point?
Nope. Not really. I warned you that my blog was random. I like to write the way that I think – so if you think reading this is bad, with me jumping all over the place from one topic to the next, try being in my head. I shall quote my beloved Anne of Green Gables: “You ought to give me some credit. You cannot imagine all the things I want to say and don’t.”