Though almost always able to maintain calm in the presence of others, I have a wretched temper. Unintentional errors made by yours truly rarely cause my coworkers inconvenience, therefore no object for which I shell out hard-earned cash should prematurely stop pleasing. If a device fails, my ensuing outrage is defensible. The bare minimum is all I desire, yet I'm regularly disappointed.
In a country ruled by trends, the popularity of failure never fades.
Being an expert in the field of computers means relationships never run their course. Monthly I receive a voice or email message similar to, "Hey Murph, it's Dan--I did Mr. Sandoval's bidding for eight months in 2007. How are you? I'm fantastic. Joey turned five last weekend and I'm still with Myerson-Wagner. Anyhoo--I just got a new computer and was hoping you could drop by this Saturday to help me hook it up. The IT people at my organization aren't nearly as knowledgeable or as nice ;-) as the beautiful and talented Murph. It shouldn't take more than a couple hours. I plan on using it to make videos of Joey playing soccer. What's FireWire? Is it important? We can discuss when you're here. My wife will be serving her famous spaghetti and meatballs alongside a scrumptious loaf of crispy garlic bread! Let me know. Thanks a bunch!"
If sitting down for a meal with a group of strangers was ever left out of a work request I might occasionally accept. Why do people think dinner will persuade me to come-a-running? Is it because most human beings go to extremes to defile their mouths with fatty foods funded by the wallet of another? Is the assumption that all unattached individuals over the age of thirty miserably choke down formerly frozen entrees night after night--the time in between the few moments of pleasure we receive from smacking our lips are spent wishing a person was so proximate that he or she was getting an earful of our digestive noises?
I can't imagine life with a spouse. How do people handle the incessant togetherness? No matter how strong the bond or how many years they've been attached at the hip, no individual can truly be themselves around their partner.
Having a great desire to perform kind acts for persons about whom one cares deeply is human nature. The love my parents feel for each other is so strong that they continually strive to sacrifice their own happiness. Their relationship is an endless parade of "up to yous." When the three of us are together, even I join in. Thankfully they are the only two people worthy of such sacrifice.
Were I to meet a man with the requisite decency to consider dating long term, it wouldn't be possible to put my needs above his, which makes exceptionally comforting the fact that his whereabouts will eternally remain a mystery.
It's early yet, but I'm having fun writing this blog. Typically wishing authors would get to the point, I'm discovering why just the facts often fail to induce the turning of pages.
This endeavor is not my first attempt at artistry, however. In the midst of enacting revenge upon people who have wronged me, I develop fictional characters, such as the woman engaging in illicit relations with Mr. Patel, and portray her--or him. This particular creation is angry. Something went wrong. The object of her affection is paying her slight attention. Has the novelty warn off? Was Mr. Patel lying when he said his marriage lacked legs? Is she one of a dozen harlots?
As the strumpet, I stomp around my living room grinding my teeth. The scorned mistress yearns to be with him and it sickens her that he and his wife continue to struggle for a single pair of sheets.
