Tuesday, August 5, 2008
I Am So Busy, I Don't Even Have Time to Blog About It
Leave me alone! Can't you see I'm busy?
See that sink full of dishes? I have no time to wash them, dry them, and put them away. And that rug that looks like my cat exploded all over it? Absolutely not a second in the day to vacuum. Is that a moldy head of cauliflower I spy in the refrigerator? You would think that I would throw it away! But I cannot! For I...am busy.
I know what you're thinking. How can I be so busy when I am sitting here writing to you to tell you how very busy I am? Well, smarty pants, don't I deserve a break now and again? Or shall I just keep slaving away while you sit there, thinking of mean questions to ask me? And what about you? You don't look too busy over there reading this instead of doing something useful. Pick up a broom, why don't you? Me? I can't. I'm typing this and berating you for being a lazy jerk.
Don't you know that "idle hands are the devil's playground?" Don't look now, but the devil is on your swingset. Now he's playing on your monkey bars. And wait! Now he's on your see-saw. If you just keep sitting there, he'll be in your sandbox trying to dig his way to China.
Don't just sit there with that baffled expression on your face! Can't you see that the litter box needs dumping? And that someone needs to sponge down the microwave? And that I need a cocktail? A margarita? With freshly-squeezed lime juice and a few strawberries for garnish? In the blue glass. No! Not that one! The blue glass, you bonehead!
While you're at it, do you think you could run the vacuum over there in the corner? And do up those dishes? And throw away that cauliflower? And apply talcum to my underarms? Don't just sit there! It's hot in here, and I need fanning.
Ah, that settles it. I'll be having my afternoon nap now. Wake me in a few hours.