Dust off the cob webs
Working as an attorney for years I soon grew tired of being in court all day. All I deal with is criminals who want someone to get them out of trouble. There has to be something more in my life than this. Every day I commute to work I get an opportunity to relax my mind with music from my radio. I have always enjoyed the classical station with the many instruments playing soothing music. It’s like getting a massage before listening to people argue all day at work. Sometimes, I daydream at work what it would be like to be a musician. Being a saxophone player Manchester and creating wonderful music like others do on that classical station that I listen to when commuting to work. Maybe one day I will quit this job and try it. What’s the purpose of having dreams if I can’t even chase after them.
My cousin and I like to get together once a month or so just to try to keep in touch. We each drive an hour and half to meet one another. Sometimes we just go get coffee and talk and other times we try a new adventure. A few weeks ago, she called to ask me to meet her to get a Manchester thai massage. I agreed, but I was scared. I am very self-conscious and started to worry about whether I could allow someone else’s hands to touch my body.
I didn’t want to hurt my cousin’s feelings, but I was very nervous. In fact, I thought about canceling and pretending to be sick. I decided to go through with it and am glad I did. I had no idea I could relax like I did. I had no idea that I would enjoy the peace that fell upon my body as my muscles relaxed.
Are you looking for something fun to do this weekend? Well, if you are, don’t play golf! I despise this sport more than my worst enemy. I think the person who created it had a sick and twisted sense of humor. Think of this. Do you ever hear people come back from a golf game and say, “I had the time of my life”? No! They come back and talk about how they shanked a ball on the 17th hole, got stuck in a silica sand bunker on the 18th hole, and then five-putted to finish out the round. Well, at least that’s how I would describe my latest golf experience, which is why I hate this sport with a passion.
Seriously, the next time you want to go out and do something fun, rent a jet-ski or go for a hike in the mountains. These activities are fun and relaxing. If you’re absolutely dead-set on playing golf, then at least make it miniature golf.
Calvin sat at the table and sipped his coffee. He had recorded six ads so far this morning, all of them a bit longer than usual. Five had required retakes. He was grateful for the work, although this was not what he had in mind when he started acting.
Recording live actors for augmented reality ads were a recent trend. When AR first appeared in consumer devices, the ads were usually something basic like still images or audio. During the past few years, some merchants had decided to stand out by using footage of actual pitchmen inserted into CGI.
He looked over at the green walls where he spent much of his day. He was Irish. He really liked green. He didn’t like it as much now as he used to. Calvin thought to himself that his life could use a little augmentation. He smiled to himself at the irony.
It used to be said that drinking water was the most important part of every life on this planet. Bob found that out the hard way when he got home from school and found the drinking water he poured was nearly brown and had bugs floating in it! “I should start paying more attention to the packets they give out in those special assemblies,” he thought.
Looking at the murky water, he was reminded of the biology class he took last week where they sampled some lake water to find tiny creatures lurking around. “We are lucky we have clean water here as this could be your drinking water,” the teacher had stated.
It was then that he understood the meaning behind the water filtration media packet of information he received in school today. “Apparently,” Bob thought, “I should pay attention in biology if I want to survive this planet.”
I could swear my basement speaks to me. Walls speak. I can’t imagine what I’d do if anyone found out I hear things when I go down there. My basement doesn’t frighten me; the thought of going to an asylum frightens me. I know it sounds crazy, but why don’t you go down there and hear for yourself!
I’m mad. I must be! Hearing the living walls speak to me, say my name, and scream at night is awful! The walls don’t just speak, either! They bang, like thunder in a soundless city, just waiting for some sort of noise to break the dreaded silence. Oh, the noise! So much noise! I just want it to go away!
The screaming and banging forces a hammer to the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang Bang! I bang right back, screaming just as loud as the walls do.
Trying to make ends meet is difficult these days. Going to college means piling up student loan debt with class and lab fees and living expenses. One of the girls I take a couple of classes with told me about a job opportunity that will fit my schedule.
She said the company she works for needs promotional girls. It is not a difficult job and requires very little training. Right now they have an opening for perfume demonstrators. We would just stand where customers pass through and ask them if they would like to try a brand name perfume. If they did, we would spritz a small bit on their wrist.
It sounded like an easy job, and I took her advice to submit an application online. She said she would make sure it was noticed at the office. I am looking forward to a chance to make some money while still in school.