August 31, 2005
I wasn't actually born yesterday, but it does sorta feel like someone just hit the reset button of my brain.Mind you, I was merely an innocent bystander, hoping to catch a few precious moments of solitude in which I might actually update my blog when, all of a sudden, this massive wall of inimitable proportions came out of nowhere and decided to plant its cold, concretey goodness directly against my face.
This is a phenomenon more commonly known as 'F'ing Writer's Block.'
The current type of blockage that has prevented me from giving you an updated post in nearly a month is not due to a lack of material, precious time or perfect verbage, but rather to the singular fact that I really haven't felt like writing. I wish I could put it into better words with a more definite structure and top it all with a precise reason but, alas, I cannot.
All I can tell you is that my next semester at Carroll begins tomorrow and I still do know which building my Ethics class is held in. I still do not have all of my books and the parking pass for my car is sitting on someone's desk in the main office of the Campus Center. I missed Opening Convocation today because I was foolish enough to believe that my last minute trip to Wal-Mart in order to procure a wee battery for my watch would be a simple task when, in all reality, the rest of the world was thinking this very same thing. A mother with her two blonde haired daughters was standing directly across from me, tapping her long, Frenchly manicured fingers nails upon the glass counter, when I strolled up to inquire if they could replace the battery in my watch.
"Listen," said the woman with the white tipped claws, "I don't care if you don't SELL Rolex watches, I just want a BATTERY for it!"
"But, Ma'am, we don't sell batteries for watches that we do not carry," replied the young girl behind the glass barrier (probably for the third time).
"Well, where can I get a Rolex watch battery?" asked Claw Girl.
"I'm not sure, Ma'am, but it would have to be at a place that sells Rolex watches."
"Well, where in the world do they sell Rolex watches around here?"
I held my tongue, but my mind repeated, 'The mall, you stupid, ridiculous, finger naily, demanding twit, the mall. Go to the F'ING mall and get the HELL outta Wal-Mart so I can get the HELL outta Wal-Mart.
The young girl at the counter merely shrugged her shoulders. I wanted to beat her senseless head forty feet into the ground, but instead I smiled as brightly as possible knowing that she would react much better to the latter action. As a result of my congenial eyes sparkling at her numb forehead, I was greeted with a hearty hello and the poor Manicure Maniac was thoroughly ignored despite her grinding teeth and tapping toes.
Thus, after an old man rudely cut in line, desperate to fulfill his personal financial needs by acquiring a specific wallet bearing ducks on the front flap and after another 15 minutes of watch fumbling and incorrect battery fitting, I was, at last, with accurate time.
Accurate enough to inform me that I had just missed Opening Convocation.
At least I now know to avoid 'National Replace Your Watch Battery at Wal-Mart Day.'
After all that, I was determined to piss someone off in order to make myself feel better. Therefore, I made an illegal turn at Wal-Mart's exit where a plethora of construction workers were gathered in the gravel, avidly assessing the Hot Factor of the MILF with her two blonde haired daughters in the red Corvette next to me.
I turned down my radio to relish in the joy of the 'ting! ting!' sound the gravel made on the red car from the roost of my rear tires.
It's funny how a bit of spite can turn a frown into an all out guffaw...