Category: Words

I’m worried now, but it won’t be long.
It takes a worried man, you know, to sing a worried song.
–Old 97’s/Big Brown Eyes

Sometimes things I do or say have unexpected results. I think I’ve mentioned how I like talking back to inspirational quotes before. It’s sort of a minor hobby. I follow purveyors of inspiring quotations on Twitter and comment on them. Yes, it’s dumb, but it keeps me from arguing with real people. Except that it doesn’t at all. Anyway, The other night I commented about one that said:

A waist is a terrible thing to mind.

I responded that it was better to expand your mind than your waist and then got a response from someone pointing out that it’s hard to get rid of mental love handles.

That’s just great–now I have something new to worry about. Well, not new. I’ve always worried about my mind being lazy. I worry about losing my memory. I also worry about getting trapped inside of my mind with a completely immobile body and people not realizing that my mind is still fine. Well, that’s really a different story innit?

Anyway.

Mental lovehandles. It’s a good phrase. No one wants a flabby brain.

I already have a flabby body, so I do not need mental flab at all. If my steady regimen of reading and writing doesn’t help prevent mental lovehandles, I am kind of screwed. Should I do Sudoku? I hate them. Mind training exercises? Should I start playing that card game where you have to find matching cards? I can’t remember the name of it. Is that the first sign of mental lovehandles? What about excessive questions? If wondering is a sign of dementia, then I definitely have it. Definitely.

I worry too much.
Right?

Is arguing with the voice in my head considered mental exercise? Because if it is, I will have not problems with brain flab at all. But then, if I get better at this mindfulness shit, the voice inside my head will (supposedly) diminish or even vanish and then what will I do for a mental workout?

So…
Maybe I should start going to the gym.
They might have a brain treadmill I could use.

I’m cold.
Sometimes you are.
What?
Sometimes you’re cold.
Cold?
Yeah. Sometimes you’re kind of cold.
Wow. OK. I just meant that I forgot to wear a jacket. What do you mean sometimes I’m cold? Like emotionally?
…
…
How am I cold?
You just said. Physically.
Ah.
What?
Nothing.
What!?
Are you doing this just to piss me off?
Doing what?
Because I can’t decide if you are really that clueless or if you’re just getting off on being a button pusher today.
What!?
I’m not emotionally cold at all right now, just so you know.
That’s good.
Is it?
No.
You’re not going to even try to explain what you meant, are you?
Are you kidding?
No.
I value my life too much.
It’s a good thing I like your family.
Why?
Because it’s keeping me from strangling you through the phone.
You couldn’t anyway.
You’re right. It’d be much more satisfying in person.
That was cold. See?
You’ll be cold shortly after I kill you.
Room temperature, anyway.
Dick.
I love you.
Such a dick.
You love me, too.
There must be something wrong with me.
You’re perfect, as long as you remember your jacket.
It’s not too late for me to kill you, you know.
Nah. You’d have done it already. You’re used to me now.
Baby, there IS no getting used to you.
It’s one of your favorite things about me.
No. My favorite thing about you is that you make me laugh.
Like now?
Right now it’s more of a grimace.
That’s not like a laugh at all.
You’re doing a really shitty job.
It’s more of a hobby.
There you go. That made me laugh.
Good girl.
Get off my phone.
You called me, remember?
Good-bye George.
Good-bye, Clarence.