I don't live near my work. So every morning, at 7.30, I have to ride my bike to the train station, take the train, then 5 minutes the metro and 5 minutes walking, before I'm in the office. I do have a drivers license, but no car. But the train is more sufficient anyways because of the many people on the road in the morning. It seems most people are so eager to get to work that they step in their steel horses even before the rise of the sun, trying to conquer the asphalt roads as fast as they can. Sadly good thoughts never go alone, so within no time the roads are overwhelmed with cars. So my choice is the train. Every morning I wait for the train. This morning I was wet. It rains and I ride a bike. That's asking for it. So I was standing in the train with big rain drops still on my glasses and a wet pants. I hoped to be able to sit this time, but that hope I lost a long time ago. Every day more people take the same train, so now I'm just happy to stand. Many years ago I went with the train to Leiden. I could sit and study. I did a psychology course for a year and it worked. So this time I had the brilliant idea of studying Spanish in the train. It takes 30 minutes one way and 30 minutes back home. So 60 minutes a day of study isn't bad. I am not a great learner, but 60 minutes I can manage. Now I stand in the train every morning. Most days I have my books with me, but when ever I open them I feel my eyes growing heavy and I feel myself falling into a deep black hole. I am so tired that even sleeping standing up isn't a problem anymore. I am able to stay awake (barely) during my working days, but in the train my body wants to sleep. I'm not alone. I see many people yawn and sitting or even standing with their eyes closed. So I don't feel alone. I'm happy for that. I know I should study, but sleeping is the best excuse for not doing it
I saved a snail today. Maybe this story isn't good for my reputation as a wannabe tough guy, but I will share it anyways. So I saved a snail today. I wanted to get my bike and there he was (or was it a she? I can never tell). The little guy was on the pavement and I almost stepped on him. So I moved him to the grass next to the dangerous road. I got my bike and gave him a last look. Oddly enough he was still at the same spot. I placed him on some leaves, but he didn't move. Despite that, I felt good about myself. I saved him. So I got on my bike and left. Not a minute later it started to rain. The sky looked clear when I saved the snail, but yet the rain was enough to give me wet pants. I don't know if the two are related, but maybe the snail was praying for some rain. Maybe he wasn't crossing the road at all and got mad at me because I placed him at the wrong side. So the rain was my thanks. Still I am happy that I saved him. Not even some rain can get me out of my mood.
I got praised about my photos again. I don't think I am a good photographer at all, but neither I'm bad at what I do, so I am happy with every comment I get. The good and the bad. The bad is something I'm prepared for because I had that most times in my life, with everything I did. The good on the other hand is something new to me. I know, I will get used to it, but for now it feels like a new jacket. I need to wear it more to get comfortable with it. But I thank the ones who like my photos. It means a lot. So here is a new one. Guess what it is. It was part of my photography course again; make a detailed photo of something and let others guess. So here it is. Not hard to guess, but I am happy with the result.
Jack wakes up with a huge hangover after attending his company's Christmas Party. Jack is not normally a drinker, but the drinks didn't taste like alcohol at all. He didn't even remember how he got home from the party. As bad as he was feeling, he wondered if he did something wrong. Jack had to force himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins ne xt to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits up and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. He looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house.
He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. Then he notices a note hanging on the corner of the mirror written in red with little hearts on it and a kiss mark from his wife in lipstick: "Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to get groceries to make you your favorite dinner tonight. I love you, darling! Love, Jillian"
He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast, steaming hot coffee and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating. Jack asks, "Son...what happened last ni ght?" "Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and out of your mind. You fell over the coffee table and broke it, and then you puked in the hallway, and got that black eye when you ran into the door. Confused, he asked his son, "So, why is everything in such perfect order and so clean? I have a rose, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me??" His son replies, "Oh THAT!... Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, I'm married!!"
Broken Coffee Table $239.99 Hot Breakfast $4.20 Two Aspirins $.38 Saying the right thing, at the right time . . PRICELESS!!!
I wish I had a life. I have a life, but I want a life written in CAPITALS. I want to be at work, early in the morning and feeling as if it's still 3 at night. But also sitting there with a huge smile on my face because I had one of the best nights in my new life. In my new life I would be sitting at a cafe, drinking, talking, giggling and looking in the blue eyes of one of the most beautiful girls I would know. I am simple, so everyone is beautiful, so I am easy to please. But in my old life I don't sit in front of a beautiful girl at 3 at night. In my old life I sit behind the Internet, browsing for new pen pals, reading some blog entries, moving files on my computer, eating next to my computer and eventually watch some TV and go to bed at 10 because my body screams for a bed. So I want a new life and preferably a life as a writer or maybe a stud or maybe even a teen. I can stay up late and look at my beautiful girl again and giggle. If that happened, then I wouldn't mind sitting here at work writing this and feeling so unbelievable tired. If I had my new life, I would do the same, but then with a huge smile on my lips and looking forward to the next night. I am listed at dating sites. Yes plural. I figure the more, the better changes. But so far that doesn't qualify for me yet. I know someone who has met quite a few ladies already, and at some of the same sites as mine. I envy him. One I've seen myself. He warned me she would be pretty, I didn't believe him, but I was wrong. So I envy him. Forget what I've said.. I want to have his life, even if it's just for one day. Isn't it great to fantasize?
The very first ever Blonde GUY joke..... And well worth the wait!
An Irishman, a Mexican and a Blonde Guy were doing construction work on scaffolding on the 20th floor of a building. They were eating lunch and the Irishman said, "Corned beef and cabbage! If I get corned beef and cabbage one more time for lunch, I'm going to jump off this building." The Mexican opened his lunch box and exclaimed, "Burritos again! If I get burritos one more time I'm going to jump off, too." The blonde opened his lunch and said, "no Bologna again! If I get a bologna sandwich one more time, I'm jumping too." The next day, the Irishman opened his lunch box, saw corned beef and cabbage, and jumped to his death. The Mexican opened his lunch, saw a burrito, and jumped, too.
The blonde guy opened his lunch, saw the bologna and jumped to his death as well. At the funeral, the Irishman's wife was weeping. She said, "If I'd known how really tired he was of corned beef and cabbage, I never would have given it to him again!" The Mexican's wife also wept and said, "I could have given him tacos or enchiladas! I didn't realize he hated burritos so much."
Everyone turned and stared at the blonde's wife. The blonde's wife said, "Don't look at me. The idiot makes his own lunch."
I got send this and I think it is pretty accurate with my personality
Rooster people are very observant, accurate and precise with their observation. There are no hidden depths to the Rooster's character: he is neither complicated nor profound, rather, he is very forthright and straightforward. The rooster likes to be noticed and flattered. He might dress a little flashily with this in mind, but in his heart, he is completely conservative. Roosters always appear attractive and beautifully turned out. They are sociable and love to receive attention.
Though sharp, practical and resourceful, the Rooster also likes to dream. And because he likes to dream, he will disappoint the loved one, for the reality will never match up to the dreams he would like to share with her. Nevertheless, he really is sincere about those dreams though. Rooster people make great hosts and adore entertaining. The main virtue in the Rooster character is loyalty: they make devoted friends. They always keep their promises and are always true to their word. When Roosters love and admire someone, they will even catch the moon just to keep them happy
Nothing much to say this morning, aside from the fact that I am really tired. I wonder why. Well I guess I know why. I read somewhere that for every day you didn't sleep well, you need another day to recuperate. So I work 5 days, I am not sleeping well for 5 days (especially since I have to get up at 6 in the morning), so this means I need 5 days to rest and I only have 2. So I need a 10 days week. Yes that would be nice Ok back to my coffee.. hmmm.. it doesn't work yet.
It has been a week again already and the wounds are healed, but I still remember the needles entering my flesh and the pain I felt after wards. I took the day off to go to Rotterdam with a friend. We both needed our shots for the trip to China. We had made an appointment with a Travel Clinic. I thought it would be a clinic with nurses and doctors walking around in a white building, but the reality was a travel shop where they also had someone for the the necessary shots. She was nice, but I assumed something differently. But assuming can be a killer sometimes So after the initial 'shock' we talked about the trip and the shots. I wasn't nervous at all, but the friend was. Later he told me he even didn't sleep well because of the injections. But he took it like a man anyways. At some point he said he felt the fluid running through his veins, but it turned out he was bleeding. Since he was already sitting on a bed, there was no risk of him passing out. Not that I think he would though, but the nice lady was afraid of that happening. She gave him a band-aid and walked towards me for my needles. I am not afraid of needles, so I wasn't nervous at all. But the last shot also drew blood from my arm and it felt like she was going throw my muscles. That did hurt and the whole evening I kept feeling it. It was like someone had hit me on the arm and left a black and blue mark. Nothing like that was true, expect the pain. But my day went well. I ate with one arm and the next day I felt a lot better. Now I really have the feeling I am going to China. 122 Euro's and pain in my arm caused that
Do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are getting dead?
Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough money?
Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle?
Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?
Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?
Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him?
Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?
Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?
If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?
Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?
Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?
Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?
Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?
Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first try?
How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?
When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, "It's all right?" Well, it isn't all right, so why don't we say, "That hurt, you stupid idiot?"
Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over?
In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer when we complained about the heat?
How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?
And my FAVORITE......
The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends -- if they're okay, then it's you.
