ap·a·thy

1. Lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal; indifference.
2. Lack of emotion or feeling; impassiveness.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’d love to blame it on the heat, the humidity or my insomnia but that seems too convenient.  Sometimes I think I’ve simply “left the building,” as it were. Whatever it is that makes a person himself or herself, whether it is spirit, soul etc., has pretty much abandoned ship leaving only enough behind to keep my body animate.

I spent so much time in my own little world as a child that perhaps whatever I created was far more interesting than the real world and one day most of me just stayed there and sent this flimsy copy of me back to deal with life.

Oh give me a break.  If I read this on someone else’s blog I’d think they were a whiny-ass bitch and wonder why they felt the need to pollute the Internet with yet one more sad sack of shit’s “woe is me” tale. 

Such unoriginal tripe.

tripe 

1. The rubbery lining of the stomach of cattle or other ruminants, used as food.
2. (Informal) Something of no value; rubbish.

That’s right, this post is basically cow gut.  So put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Put/stick that in your pipe and smoke it! (informal)

1. An impolite way of telling someone that they must accept what you have just said even if they do not like it.

Ah, there’s nothing like a slap in the face to make it all better.

I’m tired of looking at a blank page while I’m trying to tweak this blog to my liking, so I thought I should start the ball rolling by describing a moment from one of my typical afternoons. It has been disgustingly hot and humid here for quite some time now and I don’t fare very well in conditions like this. Evidently I’m very delicate and wilt easily. Nevertheless, I have two dogs and one of them, a Chihuahua, has a very small bladder - this means I’m out for a walk every two or three hours, like it or not.

We set out on our second or third walk for the day, such a joy. The air was grotesque and there was a thick haze that almost looked like fog, I kept rubbing my eyes thinking I was having some kind of trouble seeing. My head was pounding and I began walking slower and slower. At some point I started to completely zone out and found myself limply holding the dog’s leashes as I stared up at the sky like a zombie, mouth agape, unable to move. Everything was in slow motion, including my thoughts, which were muddled and completely unintelligible. Just then, something interrupted my peaceful daze. A thought was trying to make its way into my consciousness. “Hmmm, why does my foot feel funny?” I had little reaction to this and returned to blinking slowly at the sky, but there it was again, that pesky thought - “my foot does feel strange.” I debated for a second whether to care or not as it would require some serious effort to move my head and see my foot, but I gave in and reluctantly looked down.

If I were to see what I saw on a normal day it would have prompted a very quick, angry response, a flurry of action and a host of expletives, but not that day. I was so incredibly out of it that I just couldn’t summon the strength for the slightest response. There was my dog (the big one mind you, not the Chihuahua) peeing on my flip-flop clad foot. I actually had no reaction, nothing, which still amazes me. I just shrugged it off and continued on the walk, squishing along in my soggy shoe.Wouldn’t it be nice if more things had such little effect on me, but unfortunately that’s not how I operate. If she ever does it again she’ll be eating that flip-flop for dinner.