A few strange things have been pressing on my brain lately, so I decided to spill them.
- Why is it that the behemoth Chevy Suburban always parks right next to me in the lot, so when I need to back out, I'm essentially taking my life into my hands, because somebody with over-compensation issues needs to own a vehicle that's longer than a hearse? What do you carry in there, anyway? Big pallets of provisions for your doomsday bunker? C'mon.
- I'm in my sixth decade of life, and yet there are foods that I've never once tasted. Why is that? I've never, ever, placed a brussel sprout between my lips. And I sort of know what a rutabaga is, but I have no idea how one is prepared for consumption. There are foods that I somehow divined I would hate if I tasted them, and I was presciently correct: shrimp, for one; spinach for another. Maybe foods that begin with the letter "S" are the ones to avoid. On the flip side, asparagus never sounded appealing to me; but I love asparagus. Oh, and I've never tried eggplant. Should all these vegetables be on my bucket list? Or is it really one of those "never mind" sort of things?
- Why does Target card people when they want to buy a lighter? If I'm using the lighter to light a cigarette, well, cigarettes are still legal, right? But what if I'm buying it to light the candles on a birthday cake? Or to get my Kingsford charcoal firing for a couple of hamburger patties for supper? Is there a secret report that's forwarded to the Justice Department of all the people who dared to purchase a Bic? And, if so, will a drone fly over my house and kill me? Maybe I should just break down and buy a box of matches instead.
- What's up with Daylight Savings Time? I'm getting really cranky having to adjust my body clock to the whims of whatever government agency has deemed that people can't be allowed to become too complacent. Hey, why not change the clocks every month, instead of every six months? Really throw people off their game. As an insomniac, I will tell you that I don't even get enough sleep when the clock is consistently dependable. Stripping an hour off my rest will just cause me to snap at family members arbitrarily.
Whew. I do feel somewhat better now!
I'm still kinda ticked at Target, though.