The last time I went silent, I gave you heads up. So sorry if I had none when six perfect days passed by without a hi.
I had no entries for almost a week mainly because I wanted to highlight the last movie I saw and at the same time work on my project (a bunch of teasers, screensavers, invites and a company board decoration). I’ve been running all over the place so I had no time to sit for an article.
I was at the mall a few days back and got stuck in an elevator with three men. Okay, no kinky thoughts please, kids are reading.
From the basement, I took the first available elevator to go to the sixth floor to meet a friend. Three men just around my age boarded right after me. The first one looked like the typical metro sexual with impressively nice toenails, the other looked like the usual “I’m running an errand between errands I better get outta here soon” guy, and the tall guy with a nice dishevelled hair beside me was busy flaunting his iphone . When all seemed ready to be taken to the floor of their choice, the machine sat idly without any response. With a quizzical pause, each guy took another press on the buttons, as if to announce their impatience to the elevator – to no avail. Each again took a jab at the “Close Door” to compel the sad thing to respond … and all waited with ebbing composure. Guy number One sighed and looked at his watch, guy number Two started looking at each one of us for an answer, and guy number Three placed his iphone back in his bag. By that time, I was laughing in my head. All the king’s men…
From the back of the elevator, I took a step forward and switched the red knob down, which loudly pointed to the word STOP.
It’s true what they say; get a girl to get things done.
That thing on my head that won’t go away, no not the voices – I like the voices, the doctor gave me a clean bill for that.
Somehow, it’s now considered a memorabilia of my unfortunate head banging. The lump will stay as a lump (blood clot that will not in any way pose any danger) and no meds needed. Getting to that conclusion was no walk in the park; EEG was uh-nnoying and grrr-osse. Keeping still is not my cup of tea and being flashed with lights, asked to breathe in different intervals and lie in bed for 45 minutes without moving a limb is testy. On top of that, I walked away with glue in my hair.
A few days later, the doctor concluded that if I feel dizzy, I must not push myself to imagine that I’m okay. Unless we’re having an earthquake, he advised that I should sit down and rest. I knew that, I was just too stubborn to listen.
I was told by my bestfriend that my high school friends will be holding a reunion this October 17. I’m dead sure this is going to be another episode of “Much Ado About Nothing”.
I will have to get my hair and nails done, shop for something nice to wear and shave that extra five pounds … well actually it’ 20, but that’s another story.
I would like to see them, see how everyone’s doing, how they’ve been and perhaps reconnect. Nevertheless, until then I’m going to fuzz over nonsensical things.