I wonder how the yellow paint does it. I bought it months ago. Does it toss and fret about not being used? I have wanted to use it. I have thought about taking it out and flipping the paint onto a canvas or two. Yet I have not. Has the yellow paint quit me as a painter? Has it decided to shun me and not to be used? I submit that it has not.
That’s the gift of yellow. Sunshine is yellow. Happiness is yellow. Oh to be the color of happiness and indelible patience. I think I can. I think I can. Something else I can do, have freakin washboard abs. If I do ab ripper every other day, because that guy on the vid said not to do it every day.
Speaking of power and agency, I think I’m going to paint soon. Next week, when I have some extra time since I don’t seem to be as popular lately, I will start a new painting. That way, when people ask to see some of my work, I will have some work to demonstrate.
Does anyone else hate cement highway dividers? I don’t know why, but they give me a tidge of anxiety when I drive. Especially when there’s a lot of road construction, especially in a bus. Ugh, the thought makes me shudder.
Also, I never want to go to jail. That would be the worst. Fact. In these final moments of reflection, I would also like to admit I actually enjoy watching some soaps. It’s not my fault; I watch them for work sometimes. Soap operas are not as clean and wholesome as they sound. It’s a hard life. And the worst part is, I can now understand what’s going on in Spanish soaps- something I always acutely desired before entering the wide world of Spanish comprehension. Happy Birthday to me. Take THAT hasty.