I am the accused.
Tried, convicted, hung without fair representation.
The facts of this case remain unclear.
The closing arguments remain clouded by jealousy.
The evidence remains to be seen.
A jury of my peers are nowhere to be found.
The judge presiding over my case is you.
Need I say more?
I’ve been awfully neglectful in writing…but it’s only partially my fault. I guess all work and no play has left me drained, uninspired and wordless. Writer’s block happens to me and every other writer in the world but I feel different. I AM different. I feel like when I get writer’s block it will last forever. I will have no more words to mold into poems, no more stories to blog about. Of course I am being completely irrational and melodramatic; what else can a woman do when she feels her livelihood slipping away from her???
One day last week while I was working diligently into the evening hours, Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” blasted from my little speakers. She sings “If he liked it then he should’ve put a ring on it.” Of course I’ve heard the song a gazillion times but for some reason that night I gave those words some thought.
If he liked it then he should have put a ring on it…
I’m transported back to 9th grade and truth tables for a moment. P → Q If p is true then so is q. So now I apply this to real life. I tell my coworker, “They all tell me they like it but still no ring.” I’m perplexed. LOL. It is true that they like it but I suppose that I should take a few things into consideration: How much does he have to like it? (Fellas, what scale do you use to rate how much you like it?); How many times does he have to like it? (Upon realizing he likes it, I suppose he has to continue liking it in order to want to keep it for a really long time but what’s the magic number? LOL); lastly and closely related to the previous question – How long does he have to like it? (Is there a time frame where he says to himself “It’s been 2 years. It’s time to put a ring on it!”) I’m not sure if you have to have the time, length and quality or just one or two will suffice. My coworker and I did a very quick, non-scientific study that resulted in some statistical data that was skewed at the time this happened. We asked our custodian these three questions and of course he laughed at us and told us that he doesn’t believe in marriage and although he’s been with his girlfriend for like 7 years now, marriage has never entered the equation. We wondered about the girlfriend…doesn’t she want to get married? He laughed and explained, “She’s not ready.” Hmmm, is that right? Well I guess the search for answers continue for all the legally Single Ladies. I encourage you all to conduct your own surveys and get back to me LOL. I need to get down to the bottom of this!
P.S. After his mini interrogation, the custodian informed me that my problem is that I listen to too much Beyoncé LOL☺☺. Darn it! Beyoncé, to the recycle bin you go LOL!!!!
Sleepless in Brooklyn doesn’t sound as “sexy” as being “Sleepless in Seattle” but we end up doing the same things wherever we are being sleepless. All attempts to go back to sleep have been futile of course. Struggling still with my “thinkaholic” diagnosis is most challenging on sleepless nights such as this one. There are too many things for me to mull over and too many things for me to do when I wake up in the middle of the night. I get on my crackberry and start “bbming” my fellow crackberry owners as we are united in our sleeplessness. I go online and watch youtube videos about everything under the sun and now I’ve come back to my first love – writing. I churn out my best work when I’ve been asleep for two hours and have to wake up in three. The pressure to go back to sleep forces me to put out something really good for the masses and then when it’s finally out I feel so relieved. It’s almost like giving birth, just a shorter, cleaner, inanimate version LOL. Anyway, I really must go back to the task that I was pursuing prior to writing this pointless blog about me and my sleepless nights. I shall work harder than ever before, with a renewed vision of me sleeping peacefully like a baby with no cares in the world J
Confessions of a Thinkaholic 