I have buried in me, an Eeyore-like asshole that kicks rocks and spews “Meh’s” and, “This is boring,” for fun.
No matter how many shiny things I throw at him, he simply is not having any of it.
I guided a client just this week to accepting their obstinate a-hole; so, I’d better practice what I preach and make space for its whiny woes.
It’s a Seattle Thunderbird’s ice hockey night out with friends. Don’t say anything, but I’d rather be at home under my covers with a book.
But as it goes, once I’m somewhere I make the most of it. In my hand is a Let’s Go Birds flimsy piece of cardboard I’ll soon wave in air like I just don’t care.
Sitting this close means when the players bodies and faces slam against the plexiglass I will be able to investigate the fleshy part where their tooth once took hold.
It also means we’re on the big screen a lot, and I never get on the that.
Ok, so maybe my mood in the moment isn’t a good predictor of future fun.
The Thunderbirds came back from being behind 0-2 and winning 3-2.
How about that Adonis slash Fabio-looking man driving the Zamboni during intermissions. Sadly, once he popped off and I got a closer look his mystique lost its luster.
I’m not looking, mind you, but I do look.
I hope you had a great day. Love, Jaclynn