Deaf Policemen, My Blood & Oxymorons

I’m sorry Y’all…I was in the kitchen for hours trying different herbs and spices…. Couldn’t decide if I would bake or braise, simmer or saute… just too darn many feelings and emotions covering me like so many leeches… all fastened tight , holding on for dear life and sucking like there is no tomorrow….

Have you ever been so tired you couldn’t sleep. Weird right, sounds not only counter-intuitive but the perfect example of an oxymoron. Oxymoron, what a strange name…. where did it come from, why those particular words juxtaposed in just that way… Realistically it could only have three meanings, 1. Referring to a person who actually thinks oxyclean works… 2. Particularly derogatory term for mentally challenged Oxen…… 3. Typical, run of the mill moron who is full of oxygen…. hang on, I’m gonna look it up……. those Greeks and their language, I suppose it had to be either them or Latin, oxy = sharp and moros = dull… so oxymoron is the clashing of two initially opposing ideas but – on further examination they make sense…

I guess I was wrong… well that’s my mistake for this year… I usually make at least one, normally it isn’t until October or November but given my stress levels I suppose it was bound to happen earlier.

My Plex transfusion is tomorrow at 8:30 am – what is this medical pre-occupation with doing stuff so early. It’s bad enough I have to come in and do the whole thing anyways but do I need to be cranky as well? The morning is no friend of mine. We’ve never really been on speaking terms. With the possible exception of hearing a rooster crow, there isn’t much that can’t wait until after 9. Some people adore the AM, let’s call them am-morons. If you don’t have need to sit on a small stool, bucket in hand, rhythmically pulling some cow nipples, then you do not need to be up…. BUT Chris – early bird gets the worm, un-huh… OK, lets all see if we can guess what I’m thinking right now…     hey more power to you, enjoy your worms, I’ll sleep in a bit and suffer through a plate of bacon and eggs.

My Mommie Dearest arrived yesterday to ensure I haven’t been using any wire coat hangers, well that and to help with anything she can as I get out of surgery. Apparently I am going to be even more useless than usual, hard to believe… Mom, does not fly well, it’s always an adventure getting her safely on and off the plane. Better living through the use of chemicals. She made it just fine and we’ve all had a lovely visit before getting down to business, Mom, Wendi and the girls are all salivating at the thought and mention of how weak and vulnerable I will be and for how long, all I am comfortable saying is that I fear they have a plan to paint my toenails whilst incapacitated. That’s fine, they can go ahead and do anything they want, as long as they remember eventually I’ll get better AND I have an incredibly memory, that coupled with the whole – revenge is a dish best served cold – thingy… they should be prepared for the counter-strike.

Not sure what shape I will be in tomorrow night, could be awesome or not. The posting shall follow accordingly.

And now a short poem made up entirely of oxymorons, wow Chris.. be more clever…. hmmmmm, at least my self esteem is fine….

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot one another,
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don’t believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man; he saw it too!

Have a Great Day