Was reading a book yesterday and came across this sentence ' two bricks short of a full load' and was amused.. it stayed with me.. made me smile and ponder.. felt comfortable.. rolled it over in my head.. loved the sound of it on my tongue and the affinity I had for it was immense.
I suppose that's 'cos of the comfort factor I derive from.. feels familiar like someone.. somehow was describing your's truly and that someone would be my friends.. the ones I've grown with.
If they were asked to describe me, in very Mangalorean fashion they would say..' that one.. that is like that only.. two bricks.......... :-)'
I've recognised the fact that I love having a pet angst. If something does not bother me.. I feel empty. Is this a confessional..... ....I suppose. Since I do not believe in baring my soul to the priest.. hallelujiah Blogger!
Seriously though I need a bee in my bonnet. And it has to be the busiest, noisiest bee. The latest ofcourse is my battle with the bulge. When I think about it rationally, I'm like.. who cares about what the set standards of acceptable girth are. The rebel in me is up in arms.. But then again I do want to gel.. will wait for hubby's arrival and pester him with.. "i've put on weight huh".. hee hee... if there's anything that can trigger off a spate of disgusted, disgruntled and resigned volley to the oft repeated Q.. nothing beats this. Love to pester him.. must be that bee....
Oh and by the way.. you see.. after all I am two bricks short...
:-)
There.. i justified it..
Wicked!!
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