Means or ends?

Is it the means or is it the ends that count?

Dammit!  I can wax pretty poetical until it comes time to actually put it all down in writing.  Once that happens--I pretty much dry right up.

But all my thoughtfulness had to do with the ends justifying the means.  Do they?  Can they?  Is it all just a bunch of rationalization?

If I end up getting to where I want to go, does it matter how I got there?

If my kids all grow up to be good and decent people, does it matter that I fudged a bit here and there in my efforts to push and encourage them along?

~

The boys cap, gown, and graduation announcements cost me $77.  I think I got off pretty good.

Oh, and he called from work at 10 saying he might need stitches in his finger.

Turkey Loaf and pseudonyms...

Thanksgiving is approaching and I'm hungry from some turkey loaf!  A friend of mine says it's the gravy.  Whatever it is, I need me some.  And some instant potatoes. Along with a can of corn.  The ultimate trailer park thanksgiving meal.  Mmmm.

And there's some uproar in the area that was caused by a mayor using a pseudonym to publish stories in some of the local media--newspaper and online stuff.  If Ben Franklin was OK using one, why not a local mayor?  I mean aside from the fact that one of the sites he was publishing through apparently prohibited it...  I've thought of writing under a pseudonym.  And dishing out a lot of dirt.  What should my moniker be?

Sitting, contemplating, feeling the mind atrophy...

Here I am, sitting in front of the worst invention EVER--the computer. It sucks away time and life.

Kinda like the TV used to.

And I think my cell phone does the same thing!

Who was the genius?

Let's keep the TV, but lose the computers and cell phones. Let's go back to the days of rotary telephones and communication processes that took hours and days rather and seconds.

Seriously, if I fail to answer my phone, or respond to an email, people start to assume that I've either died or been abducted by aliens. The outer space kind, not the ones across the street in the trailer park.

Maybe I should somehow play that abduction thing up a bit and see if I can't find a little "me" time. But it would probably come back and bite me in the butt eventually.

The time wasted watching funny news clips and the latest viral video or looking for some old and obscure CD--for crying out loud!--it should take 5 minutes but it always takes an hour.

Or two.

I need to go out and run.

No, I don't smoke

It's a metaphor.

Quitting smoking bites!

Still, today makes 3 days.

At least I think it's been 3 days. If I get through the end of today.

I need to go run. I need to go run. I need to go run. I have a marathon in 2 weeks.

The therapists were wrong!

Or I'm just a total and complete wash-up.

I went to bed early tonight. Like at 7:30. I had (have) a head-ache. Woke up at 9:00 after having been told, again, how completely and utterly useless I am.

I will stop having those dreams eventually, right? Won't I?

On a positive note, I've decided to give up smoking. It's just not good for me.

Run in the morning.

There's a run in the morning at 6. I need to go to sleep.

And, FYI, I don't like me so much. If I keep saying that, do you think it'll have a negative affect on my sense of self worth? Because other than not liking myself much, I really am the bomb.

Weird...

when you get so close to something that big--you can't see anything at all.

And for me, the something that is that big is represented by the contents of a green binder.

Busted finger

Maybe. I can't type though--that's for sure. Finger splint gets in the way.

And tonight, my head hurts. Badly.

Oh, and a complete stranger commented on one of my posts!