So, you know when you're feeling all out of sorts, but not in an "I've come undone' kind of way, or an "I've managed to eat some bad clams and now I'm gonna hurl" kind of way, but rather in an "I can't really sit without crossing and uncrossing my legs because my loins are afire and have been for several days now because of some oysters or strawberries that I inhaled, and if I don't climb on top of someone at some point in the next little while, all my organs will cease functioning properly, and I'll end up molesting the mailman or telling the men in the office that I'm easy" kind of way?
No reason for asking, really. I was just thinking out loud.
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I almost killed myself in the shower this morning. Right, I've told you all about the musical uplift I need in order to get me going every day. Today's selection - although brilliant and wonderful, wasn't the smartest choice I ever made. Santana's Supernatural album, tracks 3, 5, 7, and 9. Silly me. Singing is good. Really getting into it and belting it out is better. But forgetting where you are and attempting to cha cha in a wet bathtub will only result in some kind of grievous personal injury. I now have a bruise on my hip that looks remarkably like the built-in soapdish in my shower.
Welcome to my world, where injuries in the shower due to lack of balance and rhythm will occur, and it has absolutely nothing to do with someone else being in there with me.
Enjoy your day, poppets. Invite someone into the shower with you... but not to the tune of Smooth. Pick somethin' slower...
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