My new job has changed me. Some may say it is for the better. I am inclined to disagree.
For the past three months I have been forced to see things with a different ticker tape of words running through my head.
I used to have a dirty commentary constantly running in my mind. Everything everyone said, my mind could distort into some completely inappropriate twist of what was actually meant. A slightly dirty distortion. Completely entertaining.
I would happily go through my day, laughing to myself, loving the fact that everyday language could sound so inappropriate. Do people realize what they are saying? I felt free to share whatever popped into my head on occasion. Enjoyable. While most people were gaily carrying on, innocent to the fact that they actually were quite filthy individuals. I knew. You needed my brain to see the truth.
I didn't care so much when things flew from my mouth, that were just not quite family friendly. Not filthy things, just slightly shocking. It was fun. Ahh, the carefree days of saying whatever came to mind.
I amused myself.
Now, I sill privately amuse myself, but I am unable to share any of it. That is just wrong.
I am now on complete "edit" mode. And I would like to say, it is no fun. Well, not nearly as fun.
I have found it is still hard not to laugh, when during a very serious meeting, my male co-worker gets his computer running and then announces to the room, "I have mine up!".
Does anyone understand how hard it is for me not to reply, "I wondered if you could get still it up." Or, "Please stop bragging".
Why can't I make some erection comment? OK, I know why. Because I would be fired. And that just sucks all the fun right out of it.
See I did it again. Dirty.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
My Grandma died this week.
Yes, I am terribly sad, but she was very old and she was ready to go. Because of that, I am free to appreciate a few odd situations that have arisen due to her passing.
Small town burials are strange. I was on the phone with my Aunt discussing some funeral odds and ends and she casually mentions that my three elderly uncles finished digging the grave that afternoon. My ears stopped listening to the rest of her sentence as my brain zeroed in on what I had just heard. Hold on a minute! Did you say my 60,65 and 79 year old uncles just dug Grandmas grave? Yep! Sure nuf. Shovels and dirt flying, digging a 6' hole to bury their own mother! In what situation is this acceptable? The Ozarks possibly, or a third world country, but this is modern day America! Just not right. And not worth the potential of killing off the old shovelers with a heart attack. I will hire my mothers hole to be dug, thank you very much.
This will be my 11 year olds first funeral. So in preparation we have been discussing what to expect and how it all goes down. He has been great about it, except one thing disturbed him. He said to Dustin after processing the latest conversation,
"Dad, I would hate to have the funeral mans job. It would be so sick having to gut the dead person."
Dustin quickly explained that all of the deer hunting, fish cleaning, and bobcat skinning he has witnessed plays no part in human funeral preparation. Kyler was so relieved, and Dustin was freaked out. Until they get to my sisters house and the exact words "gutting the person" came out of my nephew's mouth. Must be a side effect of raising outdoor, hunting boys and not some Jeffery Domer trait surfacing. 10 more years and we will know for sure.
So the funeral is tomorrow and my sister is giving the eulogy and life sketch. Anyone who knows Kim understands that the fun is just beginning. She has a way of mixing up words and saying completely hysterical and inappropriate things, all without knowing what she has done. That is the best part! She happily keeps talking while the listener sits horrified at something she casually said. I absolutely love when it happens! Tomorrow could be great! Is it wrong I am excited for a eulogy? I can't help it. I will do my best to be respectful during her tearful speech, but I will laugh my ass off when I am standing next to the hand dug hole.
It is all just too weird.
at 8:29 AM