Something Profound7:30 AM
Something about seeing an "Edit Posts" section chock full of old scheduled posts kills creativity. I bored myself to death perusing through them. I tired myself with the humdrum deepness that so often characterizes my life. So I thought, "Why not shake things up a bit? Why be boring? Why not, for once in my life, be profound?"
And goodness, did I find some things to be profound about.
There is, for instance, this shocking epidemic of cute babies. I know we must all extend grace to people of all different temperaments, but really, they go too far. There ought to be a limit on cuteness. There ought to be a fine for excess cuteness. It goes to their heads -- they flaunt their cuteness; they know they're cute, and they flaunt it. They giggle and grin and hug and wave bye-bye, and if worse comes to worse, they have this overwhelmingly sweet way of sticking out their lower lip and producing perfect drops of tears.
I can't take it any longer. A case in point: Being an exhausted ex-campaigner, I tried to ignore the cuteness of my baby sister who was absolutely enthralled with the fact that I was home again. She made me feel positively guilty when I tried to curl up on the couch and snore. She would run up to me, giggling and grinning and giving hugs, just when I had reached the shores of slumber. She alone was responsible for the fact that I got no afternoon nap and spent my time cuddling instead.
Such behavior is scandalous. And from all the babies I have seen so far, this epidemic is widespread.
Then we must tackle the absence of commenters from the blogdom. I have noticed the quietness around the borders, which is surprising, due to the fact that everybody seems to have made a mass exodus from the internet. I cannot understand how so many people can find a life in so short a time. Perhaps it is just me. I do recall a popular young lady who acquired more commenters than I have just by taking a blog break. How someone can be so charismatic and silent at the same time puzzles me bonkers. Did I read the wrong edition of How to Make Friends and Influence People? But even I, hardcore blogger that I am, have felt the desire to step away from the computer and do something nominally useful -- like, I don't know, eat the last chocolate chip cookie or pick up socks off the floor.
Which leads me (in a roundabout way -- I hope you are still there) to a curious fact that I have often pondered. It seems to me that when I am going through a problem or am cogitating on an idea or am gaining a new emotion, everybody else is too. It's ridiculous. It's uncanny. I will say to my dear friend, "I've been feeling such-and-such lately" and she will perk up and say, "I know! Me too! I was just thinking of that!" Fate is interesting like that, but after awhile, it (pardon) gets old. I begin to feel unoriginal. I begin to think that maybe I am turning out to be an ordinary sort of person with ordinary problems and ideas and feelings. That perhaps I may, actually, in all reality, be a Teenager.
But the problem I have not been able to crack, but is of pressing concern due to the cold and flu season, is this: Why is it that when one merely sneezes, the people around say, "Bless you!", but when one is hacking away at a cough, it is good manners for the cougher to apologize for his coughing? Sneezing seems un-life-threatening to me, while coughing -- I have stood by many a cougher wasting away before me, unable to utter a single "Bless you!" because of convention. Plus, sneezing must spread far more germs at a faster rate. It seems perfectly rational (to me) to say "Bless you!" to the cougher simply because he is more considerate in his distribution of germs.
Oh, but I promised something profound in this post. I have thought of something: I have nothing profound to say. Surely that is profound, in some way. Take it or leave it.