Thoughts From The Bathroom

thoughts from the bathroom humor post

I get my best brainstorming done in the bathroom—from my reign on the porcelain throne, if you will.

I am convinced this is normal. Everyone else is just too ashamed to admit it.

I don’t know why. It’s not like admitting a failed remembrance of the socially demanded hand washing ritual; a story to which, at parties, you are repeatedly forced to wail, ‘that was ONE time!’

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Creative People Are Freaks

Creative people are freaks

I made an attempt to look presentable this morning. You wouldn’t know this because my face is red and blotchy, my glasses are sliding down my face, and sweat has replaced the “natural glow” my foundation promised on the label. I’m panting.

See, the library has three stories…

And I want the best desk. One secluded, in a cool atmosphere, by the window… I’ve passed the same fifty people, on three separate floors, approximately fifteen THOUSAND times within the past half hour. They think I’m crazy, or looking for someone. My bag weighs 75 pounds. My hair is stuck under a strap, tugging my head to one side, but I circle again. Because I’m a creative person, and if I don’t get a spot by the window, the closest I will get to a prolific thought is, “maybe I would come up with better post ideas if I was by a window…

Here are 6 ways creative people are freaks.

Saying Goodbye To My Samsung Galaxy S4

saying goodbye to samsung galaxy s4

My dress is black, so are my shoes. I crumple the tissue in my lap. So far, I haven’t needed it. So far, I’m keeping together.

I stare at the pew in front of me. I burn letters into it with my eyes. What would I spell?

It would start with an S——No. I promised myself I wouldn’t get emotional. I need to stay strong.

“And now,” the reverend says. He collects his notes in one swift, habitual, gather-and-tap motion. He barely makes a sound. “We will hear from the deceased’s close friends and family.” His eyes fall on mine. He nods, my cue to stand.

I do. The empty clop of my heels against wood floor echoes through the church. Behind the podium, I clear my throat. My notes tremble in my hands. “My Samsung Galaxy S4 was a good phone,” I begin.