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It’s Happy Hour, Go Pout

Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a rut. I started to think about ways I could improve my situation, about what I really want to do, about the meaning of life, etc. Then it dawned upon me. What I really want, what I really, really want, is to have some fun. I’m kind of like that old Cyndi Lauper song, I just want to have some fun. So I’ve decided I want to have a happy hour, go to a happy hour, or just go out and have a good time. Something to take my mind off of my troubles. A little like Saturday Night Fever, I want to have a weekend blow out to take my mind off of my problems. I’ll have to go to happy hour soon, before Ted comes back to town.

I found this neat link, which I enjoyed a bit. (Try to tell the chicken to run around in circles, stand on his head, or lay an egg, it’s pretty funny.) Was a fun time for a while anyway. It’s the simple things in life that give me pleasure, I know.

I was pricing razors on the web yesterday and I’m not really sure I even want to spend any hard-earned cash on anything right now. Lately, I’ve been on this anti-shopping kick. I guess you could call it being cheap but recently I’m finding that I don’t want to spend any money and I don’t want to incrue any charges on my charge cards. I’ve been wishing I could live off the land, get off the grid, or something like this. Maybe it’s a general “lightening my load” for the impending summertime months and all.

There are two things in life I really want. I know what they are and yet I still can’t seem to get them. I want to clean-up my house, get it organized and unpacked, and I also want to get into better physical shape (loose weight.) I don’t know how I’ve become such a fat horse but lately it has me feeling really down. I think part of my “rut lining” can be traced to the fact that I feel quite powerless over these two events. I mean, I’ve gone off and identified what it is I want in life, what would make me happy, and I just can’t have it. Maybe that’s why I’m bummed. Come to think of it, I’m almost afraid to go to a happy hour, for fear that I may pout all night long. Well, maybe not if i go to baby A’s and have a ‘rita and some migas.

There’s something that should have made the top 10 list, but didn’t. Migas. Talk about those almost as much as I talk of Doritos (and I talk about those a lot.) Yum. Here’s hoping I get me some happy hour soon, before some sad hour anyway.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.


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