paint with all the colors of the wind

I'm blogging. I'm blogging and I should be sleeping. Here I sit, typing at a cross-roads. Caught somewhere between the burden I have for fulfilling my responsibility as an esteemed blogist (I'm much too unique to refer to myself as a 'blogger') and my commitment to providing excellent, alert, customer service at Gregory at 6am. It's just so hard being me.

Sarcasm is sometimes difficult to detect through non-verbal advanced mediums.. like, blogs, so, I'll help you out. It's not really hard being me. In fact, aside from the pressure I face daily concerning my unsurpassed humor, it's easy. For the past four days I've been living in an unbelievable fantasy world of birthdays, sun, dollar beer and hilarity. It has been picturesque. If I could paint a giant painting that reminded me of what the last four days has entailed, there would be the following:

1. A wise, homeless saint who reminded me just why it is important to "not talk about it, just be about it."
2. A stomach, sunburned only around the bellybutton.
3. A beer can, with no label..just a dollar sign, and a 1 next to it..like so: $1
4. A strawberry.. the new shot glass for hip, youthful, scenesters to take shots of rum and whipped cream out of.
5. The single word HA.

So I think you get my point. Sometimes you just need to sit down and figure out what in your life you would paint a mural of. It really puts things in perspective.

In closing, This is one of my more profound posts. Re-read it if you feel you've missed something. Over and out.