Bitch on the Blog

March 25, 2014

Misplaced

Filed under: Human condition — bitchontheblog @ 22:33
Tags: ,

As the years pile on making you feel like I imagine a hunchback feels (buckling under the strain) some burdens lift.  You lose interest. For instance: I can’t be arsed any longer with ‘tests’. Are you this, are you that or the other? I know the answer before I have so much as read the first question. Pity. I like answering questions.

Anyway – who cares what we are? As long as the basics of kindness, generosity, an open mind are procured I am sure I’ll shore up the vagaries of life.

Thus I desisted, this minute, being lured into taking a test of whether I am a procrastinator – and if so, why. I don’t need boxes to tick to know the answer. Which, unfortunately, leaves me with more time and fewer excuses to put off that which I should have done yesterday.

All you paragons of virtue (my readers):  I am sure your lives are perfectly manicured. Even that of those with nasal hair.

U

PS: Nasal hair does serve a purpose

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7 Comments »

  1. I was going to take the test to find out if I procrastinate, but I put if off until tomorrow. That’s an old joke. LOL. I’m with you. There’s a test for everything now. And I chuckle to think of who is sitting in a room, compiling data and making up crazy questions; i.e. “If you were a fruit would you be an apple, a pear, or a banana?” I never like the multiple choice answers. I’m always thinking something else; i.e. “I’d be a kiwi, or a pomegranate.” So I just don’t bother.

    Comment by reneejohnsonwrites — March 26, 2014 @ 01:13 | Reply

    • Makes me smile, Renee: Indeed, who does make up these questionnaires? As amusing as they may be.

      Reminds me of when my father told me how “horror scopes” are made up in your average newspaper/magazine room. First find yourself a disenchanted reporter with an empty desk and in-tray. On a mission to nowhere. Get a bit of mercury rising/Venus on the horizon, throw in hope, be a little vague. And bingo: All your readers, regardless, will be happy.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 26, 2014 @ 12:25 | Reply

  2. No, I don’t take those tests either except the funny ones like which monster do I come closest to. I manicure my facial, nasal and aural hair regularly despite knowing that they perform useful functions. Can’t run away from the brain washed aesthetics can one?

    Comment by Rummuser — March 26, 2014 @ 02:16 | Reply

    • Which monster do you come closest to?

      As to aesthetics and keeping hair trimmed: I tell you, Ramana, and never shall I forget the day which traumatized me. Yes, a hair. In the wrong place. Just one hair. Short. But that was enough for me to run screaming to the hills. It was the day, many years ago, when one of the pores on my chin must have had some sort of identity crisis. A mannerism of mine: In moments of absentmindedness I will stroke the bottom of my chin. Dear dog in heaven. I felt something. I raced to the mirror. And there it was, and the closest I ever wish to come to my own beard, one tiny stubble. I normally let live but rarely have I whipped my tweezers out faster.

      That little weed got the message.

      So far, so good. Who knows what the future will hold.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 26, 2014 @ 12:07 | Reply

  3. Does otic hair serve any purpose? I knew (as a biologist should) about nasal hair.

    Comment by magpie11 — March 26, 2014 @ 14:45 | Reply

  4. Some burdens lift. Isn’t that where wisdom comes in? Learning to pick your fights as it were? KNow when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em? With age comes the experience to realize not to sweat the small stuff and the wisdom to realize it’s all small stuff. To those who persist in those tests I simply say fuggum.

    Comment by shackman — March 26, 2014 @ 19:25 | Reply

    • Good point, Shackman: Learning how to pick your fights. Truth being – in this context – I am a slow learner. And I don’t “sweat the small stuff”. In fact, I am Henry Kissinger and Hilary Clinton rolled into one. But when something grabs me, it grabs me. A bit like bush fire. Am getting better at stamping it out. Still. Long way to go before I don’t care any longer about anything.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 29, 2014 @ 12:48 | Reply


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