I was startled awake this morning by that unexplainable falling out of bed sensation, and upon doing so, I suddenly came to a few realizations.
The first is that I need to announce some big news...we are expecting and very excited to welcome a brand spanking new bundle of joy into our lives.
Forty pounds of frozen meat will be delivered to our doorstep today and that alone is worthy of a very appreciative Jazz Hands deployment...please excuse any unintended references to meat in the following post...it's difficult to think of much else at this particular time, what with all of the preparations that have to be made to accommodate the arrival. The freezer needs to be arranged, the grill needs to be cleaned, marinades need to be mixed.
Despite the buzz of this tasty new arrival, a second realization came to me this fine morning.
Drinking coffee, while naked, is a terrible idea. While it is common sense to abstain from drinking hot beverages in the buff for safety reasons, my conclusion regarding the matter is more about aesthetics than anything else.
Not that me doing anything without clothes is aesthetically appealing, it's just that me drinking coffee in the nude is, first and foremost, an absurd activity. Secondly, I believe that a goofy looking drink consumed through a straw, possibly with red and white stripes, is much less sophisticated and much more appropriate, given the context. I'll try that next time.
When you do any activity long enough, regardless of how ridiculous it may be, it seems like a perfectly fine baseline of behavior. Even stripping down and heading into the shower with coffee mug in hand, which I have been doing on a regular basis since moving into this new house, seems routine. For whatever reason, this habit was suddenly disrupted this morning as I saw how silly the entire act appeared, reflecting back at me.
The third realization that I stumbled upon is that today is day three-hundred of our 365 Days of Jazz Hands journey. That is a fairly significant milestone, in my estimation. Aside from the announcement of our forthcoming arrival and naked coffee drinking, I am at a complete loss of events, observations, music references, literary quotations, or topics of any sort to discuss that are remotely important enough for such an occasion.
Trust me when I say that there is almost always something to write about. But on day three-hundred, it should be a meaty topic with cutting observations, raw emotion and a tender conclusion.
Many concepts challenged for rights to occupy my words today, just none were quite prominent enough to rightfully bite into.
With a mere sixty-five days to go, I see the horizon line fast approaching, but I'll hold off on that topic for another day...although relevancy would not be in question, there's not enough substance for day three-hundred.
The time a donor is required to wait between giving blood seemed to be a good discussion point in general, but again, it's just not day three-hundred material. Simon and Garfunkel have run their course, having written about them in three straight posts, and song references overall have become standard fare besides. Not quite the big event, day three-hundred stuff I'm looking for. I have not been visited by Robert Lochaven lately, I have no intention of broaching my Mitch challenges...not on day three-hundred. No sir. Family Dog deployments, Family Cat judgments, ids, egos, super egos, alter egos, daily commutes, pretend work projects...all good stuff, all relevant stuff, but none worthy of day three-hundred. Moving to Florida several years ago being the foundation of my questioning reality of just about everything, good stuff for sure and blog worthy to say the least, just not ready made for today.
Long sleeve shirts.
No.
Missing Pops.
No.
Sunset McMullen and her fur baby.
Definitely, no.
Toy clicking sounds.
Unseen eyes upon me.
No.
And no.
Salt, zombies, statistical data updates.
No, no, no.
The game. The number 42.
Close...But no.
Anything I could potentially write about would just seem forced...I can't stress enough how I'd prefer to keep these posts far out of the reach of effort's grasp...and any topic that I attempt to conquer on this particular day of the three-hundredth, will just never quite live up to the expectation and thus, I must concede that I have nothing to offer but meat deliveries and aesthetically challenged naked coffee drinking.
I will leave you with this however...
I am finding it difficult to NOT hand jazz today. My arms seek to roam upward and keeping them down is proving to be a tremendous challenge. Although I'm not really trying very hard to suppress their wanderings. That would just seem...forced.
Today's Jazz Hands have a mind of their own.
Day three-hundred complete.
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