Inside the Overactive Imagination (or Why I Forget We Need Milk)

Here are just a few spastic thoughts I’ve spent valuable brain power entertaining the last week or so.

While edging in around the ceiling in my daughters bedroom I began to think about what a tragedy it would be if I fell. I had already painted the bottom of the wall and realized that if I were to scrawl my dying words as I layed there it would just blend in as a second coat. And yes, a 4 foot fall was sure to be the end of me.


As I walked through the bedroom on some other mission I noticed Trisha Yearwood’s Kitchen was on. I stopped to imagine an elaborate scene which entailed Garth Brooks strolling in with his guitar strapped on, turning this way and that, knocking things about, and turning it into a Mad TV skit.


Driving along and noticed a motorcyclist with no helmet approaching in the opposite lane. Noted his friendly, unprotected face. Began to hope he wasn’t so friendly that he’d wave and lose control. Took time to be thankful I’d put the groceries in a cooler bag in case there was an accident at least the cheese-sticks would be alright.

crash dummies

Kids were watching cartoons on the Disney Channel and the TV switched itself to the QVC channel to broadcast an emergency alert system test. In the short moments before I realized it was only a test I’d already begun to make plans to get to Costco before everyone else. Not to buy supplies, but to hunker down, you all know what I thought was coming.


Bought a lovely old oval frame from Goodwill that features a slightly creepy reproduction of a lady in 1800’s fashion. Imagine opening frame up to repurpose it and an old map slipping out. Time wasted imagining what a pain it would be to take the kids on a Goonie like adventure.


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