Tags
ADHD, Alliteration, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bestest Friend, brain off meds, clichés, Eternal Cynic Within Me, fluffy straight-out-of-the-dryer-smelling-like-all-that-was-glorious-from-within-memories-of-childhood-ignorance feeling, jet lag, My Universe, quote, tangental, The Husband, Well played, well played indeed.
Bestest Friend who evokes that cozy, fluffy straight-out-of-the-dryer-smelling-like-all-that-was-glorious-from-within-memories-of-childhood-ignorance is like a nice day with that Glowing Orb In The Sky perfect for supervising from my Security Watchtower.
It’s 1:44am and I hear the fridge humming, the pipes settling, but the best ever sound is the deep, even breathing of The Husband beside me in bed. I’ve been perusing the Inteweb (read: Buzzfeed Will Be The Death of Me. Future post?), the past hour or so, relishing (vs. ketchup-ing. 51 Awesome Points if you caught that one)… umm…
Right. Ketchup and relish. Interweb Buzzfeed sucked in.
shakes fist at Buzzfeed
Breathing.
His breathing.
Beside me.
Finally.
He’d been away for 20 days, the longest we’ve been apart in years. The Husband is My Bestest Friend. One of those Bestest Friends that
those Inspiring and/or Heartmelting, Warm Fuzzy Food For Thought Meditation, Á La Page-A-Day Calendar. All right. I will admit (albeit ~ brilliant word, n’est pas?~ reluctantly. I am, again ~ admittedly~ averse to prescribing to those clichés. The thought of the aforementioned very narrowly, talking razor thin ~yech! Cliché~ causes recoil
throughout my anatomy. Srsly.)
ADHD.
Why hello.
Now get lost.
Returning to previously scheduled broadcast. Actually, it wasn’t scheduled. Acknowledges ADHD with nod
Aarrgh.
Back to where Brain strayed.
Breathing. The Husband. 20 days. Bestest Friend. Saccharine cliché calendar shit that I reluctantly…Shit. Wrong turn.
Sigh
Bestest friend.The Husband. The Universe in order…
Oh. Right.
The Bestest Friend who evokes that cozy, fluffy straight-out-of-the-dryer-smelling-like-all-that-was-glorious-from-within-memories-of-childhood-ignorance… emotion…Deep within the cockles of my heart. Whatever “the cockles” which are within my heart. Deep. But that’s pretty much the summation of whatever my point is. This is much more laborious than anticipated; this Blog Posting Thing. I have strong suspicions the lag in plot progress (three ~ or quite possibly deserving of more than three cheers, I’m so spectacularly keen ~ on alliteration, that is… um… Three [or more] cheers for Alliteration!).
A respectful tip-‘o-hat to, once again, ADHD.
Well played. Well played indeed. Be wary; I too, have much… skillz of the verbal kind. (Why am I suddenly attempting to emulate the verbosity of a thickly overladen and overenthusiastic [AlliterationHooray!] English paper of a first year uni student? No matter. My blog. Suck it up, You Reader(s).)
FAWK.
Just to point out: the above formatting is overkill in academic composition. Do not attempt in real life. I use it to triple-emphasize my notably elevated frustration towards ADHD. My Nemesis, in addition to being My Compadre That Ever-So-Gallantly Rescues My Inner Monologue (Duologue?) From The Otherwise Impending Life (Mind?) Sentence of Monotonous Existence. Wait. Can’t overlook The Eternal Cynic Within Me. (Laying it on thick you two tonight, aren’t ya? Kudos. Noweffoff.) I just want to finish my point now.
Exuent ADHD and The Eternal Cynic
Gonna get to the point, which I shoulda done to begin with.
Breathing. Universe in order. The Husband. Bestest Friend… who evokes that cozy, fluffy straight-out-of-the-dryer-smelling-like-all-that-was-glorious-from-within-memories-of-child
hood-ignorance… emotion. …Deep within the cockles of my heart… An’ stuff.
Moving on. (Home stretch, I can just feeeeel ittttt…)
The Husband: My Solace of my Life.
I’m so very (selfishly perhaps?) glad that his work season is done. Realize this, Dear Reader, when in our pre-wedding meet with the officiant, he asked: Why do you want to get married? Neither of us could say a word. We started crying. Caught off guard, he told us that it was the first time he’d had a couple react like that. So there.
And so, My Universe feels back in order; and The Husband, My Solace, My Bestest Friend ~ is back Home. Beside me. Catching up on sleep. Poor kid. Jet lag sucks.
Exeunt
Of course there’s more. It’s me. In all seriousness: I wish for Each One of You to find their Bestest Friend like the one I’ve found. Be it married, spouse, common law or uncommon law; young, middle aged or old; gay, straight, diagonal or tangential; Someone you know is your Forever. Your soul will tell you. Your best friends and family might tell you first. But you’ll know. She/he/et. al. is somewhere.
Smiles.
Don't Forget Fancypants 