Comic Reliefs

Finally, a ray of light in my crappy day! I find myself laughing with these pictures I found just leisurely surfing the net.

I just can’t help it. Ha ha. You must see for yourselves how funny and cute these pictures are. And if you haven’t seen enough, click on this link:

Lolcats ‘n’ Funny Pictures of Cats - I Can Has Cheezburger? (more…)

Off!

Let’s see.

Not feeling too well last night, coupled with the wailings of seemingly pained-slash-tortured human being (translation: videoke singer from downstairs) disrupting my REM, I didn’t want to get out of bed. As if that was not enough for the morning, the curse of the female race just dropped me a visit. Oh yes! And it brought along friends too — pain, nausea, cramps, weakness, discomfort, and irritation. This is one of those visits that makes me want to kill if I don’t get some kind of relief from any of the vicious, vicious friends! 

When it was just time for lunch, I had to look for something to eat. And when I saw food, another wave of nausea seeped in and I could have just vomited whatever’s left in my stomach from dinner last night.

During an episode of this dysmenorrhea, I asked the better half, “Would you be willing to take the pain off from me for just one out of the normally three days I become incapacitated to function? Just one day for every month?”

(more…)

thinking aloud

This had gotten me into trouble several times before.

Once, I should have stopped myself before blurting out something that stirred up trouble and having people criticize me for having said so. It was a derogatory remark, ought to be a question running just inside my head.

Another was when I agreed with an authority against someone else. I’m sure I have hurt that’s person’s feelings. And for that I was sorry. Right then and there, I said, "Sorry, thinking aloud."

When I’m with the better half, he just suddenly asks me why I’ve been talking to myself. I was even able to come to a decision through a conversation with myself just thinking aloud. Ha ha. If he was a stranger, I would have been pegged as insane. Perhaps, being comfortable with him makes me be myself more.

And there are a lot more. 

I’m sure it’s not a psychological disorder of some sort. Well, I do hope not. And I’m pretty sure, there are others who also had the same occasional intervals as I had. It’s nice to think that I’m not alone.  

i am not flat-footed

I most definitely am not! Flat-footed people are clumsy? I must say, it is a hasty conclusion. Accidents do happen. For me, though, an accident is just always at bay waiting to happen. 

Waking up finding a bruise or two in my arms or legs is a normal thing for me. Sometimes I get lucky (not!) to find more than just a bruise — a little abrasion here and there. Some of it I got from the littlest movement I make in the small place I move around in. I bump myself to the silliest places — the doorknob to my room, the bed frame, some chairs, the wall while sleeping, heck, I even trip on my own foot. Needless to say, it has become an unfortunate talent.

I have been obsessed with cleaning. When I do, I would find some rather perfect spot to injure myself. Not knowing I already did, I still go on until I finally finish to my satisfaction. An added bonus to that are stinging pains on my fingers. The skin just below my nails gave way and it stings like crazy afterwards.

But yesterday was my winning moment. I was doing laundry. As I was to check on the spin-drying clothes, I entered the bathroom and slipped on the soap drenched tiles. Luckily I was able to grab hold of the door and saved my upper half of the body. The toilet bowl saved me from falling flat on my behind, thankfully, but it gave me shooting pain when my leg hit it right to the shin. It actually led me to tears. And left my shin all bruised and swollen and left me limping at present. It’s an award-winning performance, I know. Not too funny when it happened, definitely not so funny when I walk up and down the stairs. But it’s quite hilarious actually when I told the story to friends.  He he.

As they say, if you’re flat-footed, you’re clumsy. Well, last I checked, there’s an arch on the inside soles of my feet. So flat or arched, it has nothing to do with clumsiness. And right now, I’d rather be flat-footed than clumsy. He he.