Thursday, 22 January 2009

Peanut butter Egg Dirt!

This isn’t a Sandra Lee recipe. It’s a line from one of my favourite television shows, Scrubs. It was a string of words shouted by Zac Braff’s character to prove that he was not as predictable as assumed, and that no one could guess what he would say next well enough to say it at the same time. Of course, this being a sitcom, they did. And the result was hilarious and random.

This line has, embarrassingly, crept into my vernacular and become an important tool. When I’m having a day where too many unrelated thoughts are assaulting my brain, I stop and yell “PEANUTBUTTEREGGDIRT” as a cue to order them and clear my head. Don’t worry, I work alone. So I’ve managed to avoid being carted off to the sanitarium. Actually, most of the time I ‘yell’ this in my head. I’m not good at shouting feelings and talking to myself in the mirror and letting people catch me and all this touchy-feely ballyhoo. That’s why I’m usually banned from team-building outings. (No, really I just call in sick, but they wouldn’t want me there anyway; I would harsh their vibe.)

Today is definitely a peanut butter egg dirt day. And since you are my new captive victims audience, you are forced to let me peanutbutter-egg-dirt you. Yes. I’ve now made it into a verb. The process is just to write all the thoughts somewhere, separate them into tasks and ideas, read them once, then tuck them away and proceed with task number one as prioritized on the list. I’ve listed the tasks already. Now, you get to share the thoughts. And we’re off:
-I wonder if anyone has ever popped his eye out while taking out contacts.
-I need to order contacts.
-The cow on the Skinny Cow label looks scary and cracked out and about to ask me for some spare change.
-I’m starting to develop a blinking habit like my mother.
-In what kind of godless underworld does it get dark at 4 p.m?! (I need to move back to the tropics.)
-Why do I still write like a drunk cockroach?
-Obama looks old in the Time cover portrait and his ears aren’t really that big.
-Remind me never to get into the dairy industry in China.
-Mmmm horses smell good.
-Whatever happened to that guy who used to jump into the wharf in exchange for a quarter?
Ahhh, that's better. Back to work.

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