My career path could have lead me anywhere. Trouble was, it was covered up with brush and debris… so I didn’t even know where the path was. I googled it, but that didn’t help. The balloon animal rancher thing was working… until the wind picked up. It was a sad day when my herd flew away. I could have easily replaced them, but the air would have never been the same.
I’m not like that orange cat… I don’t hate Mondays. I really don’t.
Some have called this “having a case of the Mondays. ” Nah, I think I’m beyond the case and working on at least 3 or 4 cases.
I loathe them. Hate may be a strong word but it doesn’t even approach the feet of how much I detest Mondays. Loathe might even be stretching it. I can only imagine how I would feel if I actually had a job. Boy…
For those of you out there seeing this at work today, I appreciate all you do and sympathize for you having to do it on a Monday. If I wore a hat, It would be tipped to you. If I had a neck, I would bow. I would… honest.
WTF? LOL. LMAFO. ROTFLOL. OMG. L8R. J/K. Seriously? What has this world come to? When we can’t spell out how we feel… instead having to abbreviate everything to get the sum total of that moment into a text? I’ve actually heard people SAY the abbreviations. REALLY?
“Did you see what she was wearing?”
“Yeah. Oh Em Gee (OMG) I can’t believe she thought she looks good!”
Yeah, I shed a tear when I hear stuff like that. Now, I am not guiltless. I have been known to throw a LOL out there now and then. But, that’s only because if I intend on being in that world, I have to know the lingo. Frank knows how to speak Spanish, but he doesn’t every day. Being multi-lingual in this techno-obsessive society is essential.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it. George Orwell really knew what he was writing about. Nineteen Eighty-Four is more present than you can ever imagine. The texting abbreviations will soon (some have already) enter into the language and replace longer words that take more breath to say. It’s Newspeak for the 21st century.
All I have to say is get your overalls ready. Big Brother is watching you text.
There isn’t that much difference between floating and falling. With floating you don’t really go anywhere, unless acted on by some outside force. With falling, you’re going somewhere, but gravity is in the driver’s seat. When gravity is driving, you’re not in the backseat…you’re probably in the trunk. Either way, the one thing in short supply is control.
Astronauts in orbit are not floating… they are falling. An orbit is a constant fall towards Earth. If the Earth didn’t move under them they’d fall into the atmosphere and the heat of friction would take care of the rest. But you’re falling at 17,500 miles per hour (28,164 km per hour)…90 minutes for an around the planet jaunt. To put that in a little bit of perspective, a bullet travels at roughly 2,000 miles per hour (3,217.8 km. per hour). Yeah, that’s pretty fast… and yes I can use a conversion app.
Life is determining whether or not you’re falling or floating. That’s my nugget of wisdom for now… go ahead… dip it in your favorite sauce and see what it tastes like to you.
Solutions are only needed if you have problems. If you don’t have any problems, you’re not real.
I had a Rubik’s cube once. It was given to me as a present. You may well wonder, “Who would give a squirrel a Rubik’s cube?” You would be right to wonder that… because I AM a squirrel and that’s EXACTLY what I was wondering.
It comes in a box with the puzzle already solved. You have to mess it all up real good. Then, put it back the way you found it. Pure genius. You buy something, intentionally mess it up and then try and un-mess it up. I wish I was able to get in on that concept. I’m sure many a cube wound up in the landfill because of the frustration involved in un-messing it up.
This is a repost of today’s bob the squirrel comic. I’ll admit, it wasn’t one of my best days on the line. The mood of today’s panels are decidedly much more pessimistic than the usual. A lot of different factors can contribute to this sum total bummer. I’m just going to look at one.
The weather. Yeah, I know. It’s an easy cop-out to blame one’s lack of cheerful glee on the temperature or the number of dark clouds in the sky. Just because it’s easy doesn’t make it any less true. Do I like snow? Nope. Do I like cold? Depends. Do those two things together make me want to hibernate like Yogi? Yup.
It’s impossible to be cheerful all the darn time. It just is. Even mighty rivers tend to ebb and flow with the seasons. Personalities need to do the same too. The ebbs allow you to think. The flows make you go.
So, I’m a pessimistic squirrel right now. By my very nature (and Frank is a big contributor to this feeling) I just EXPECT bad things to happen to me. If they don’t, then it’s a good day… if they do, well, I kinda expected it so the hit doesn’t hurt that bad. It’s a defense that I need. If I didn’t have that, would you really want to read the strip everyday?
I tried being an optimist once. It gave me one knockout of a headache.
Nearly everything has a barcode on it now. They’ve replaced labels and price tags almost completely. If it doesn’t have a barcode on it, you have to wonder if it really exists. Frank’s Grandmother was given a barcode when she was in the hospital… to let the staff know what she had and didn’t have…what she did and didn’t do. It was creepy, but in a cool way… access to her entire hospital stay was just a red light scan away.
Soon, we’ll all know who we are…just wait for the read out after the beep. Don’t look directly into the red laser…you may end up frying something you need.
Scares the peanuts out of me.
Suggestion is a powerful tool…or weapon…depending on which side you find yourself on. There is so much that you can do, so much that is possible if you speak well and do nothing. It never ceases to amaze me at what is accomplished with fast talk and no action. I really wish I bought a ticket on that plane when it was in front of me. Obviously, fate decided that instead of a first class ticket to paradise I would be placed in an inflatable, twice patched life raft and set adrift on a cold, cold sea with nothing but my instincts, a bottle of iodine, 2 dead AAA batteries and a half-eaten, snack sized bag of three year old trail mix… with every peanut removed.
I obviously would much rather have the peanuts than my instincts.