What is with me? I always say I’m going to keep my hair short, then I lapse into a state where I am now, where it’s bloody long–for me, anyway, as it hits the collar of my shirt in back, could cover the tops of my ears, and my bangs are as omnipresent a part of my vision as my eyelashes.
You may not ever notice, but I have the eyelashes of a girl. Folks would think I was a girl when I was a baby, because of my eyelashes.
Shut up, Todd. I’ll shove my foot up your ass for what you just said to your monitor. I heard it.
But you know, I always notice my eyelashes. I can see them. Is this just a function of my really weird vision [in other words, freakishly good, just like Dad’s]?
Is it obvious that I’m absolutely rambling at this point and urgently awaiting 2:00 p.m., when I can go home and get my gear ready for tonight’s hockey game? Do you enjoy these random babblings, or do they make you want to send a shrink my way? Why should I care?
[I swear, you’d think I just downed a bunch of Cokes. I have all big bills in my wallet now. Nothing I can hit the Coke machine with. I am disappointed.]
Is it obvious how stressed I am now? Blahahgoahoghohh! 😀