More Random Than Usual

The winter is already filling up with activity. Wednesday night Choir practice is starting up again, my Tuesday night ESL class begins at the end of the month, and I’m taking a couple of professional development classes on Thursdays in the month of February. It is a good busy . . . doing things that I want to do and just seeing where they lead . . .

A friend of mine has invited me to an “open mike” night next week and I am eager to go, if only for the fact that I haven’t gone out for fun downtown on a weeknight for . . . well, a long, long time. I have been advised to keep my expectations low to non-existent about the performances that night . . . my friend has not been on stage in a while and just wants to slowly get back into it . . .

I certainly couldn’t do it, but then I am not a naturally funny person. Well, not intentionally funny, anyway. I think I do have a pretty good sense of humor, it’s just that I couldn’t tell a joke or anything to save my life . . . my timing is just horrible and I tend to forget significant words at times. But I do appreciate other people’s humor, although I must admit I am a bit of a prude and an elitist, so I really don’t like gross jokes or sex jokes or stuff like that . . . unless it is very cleverly done . . .

Lately I have been writing random things down that I feel compelled to get on paper. They are usually no more than a sentence or paragraph or two, but they seem like they may be the start of something interesting. There is something else that I write about . . . and emotion makes me want to do it, but once it is all down I don’t know who I would share it with . . . I started writing it several months ago and have been adding to it at times, but I feel like I should just delete it . . . but I don’t want to . . . because it records how I feel about a certain situation and I rather like it . . . it captures it well, in my opinion. Good grief, Is that vague enough for you? Anyway, I’ll probably just keep typing it and then put it in a box and store it somewhere until I am ready to deal with it, for lack of knowing what else to do with it . . . or I could make up an author name and see what I can do with it that way . . . I don’t know . . . we’ll see . . .

OK, since the preceding paragraph makes no sense, I’ll stop for today, because I don’t think my thoughts are going to get any more coherent and I do need to get some work done . . .