Someone Get Me a Trash Can

If thou could'st empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
And say, 'This is not dead,'
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes, He says, 'This is enow
Unto itself - 'twere better let it be,
It is so small and full, there is no room for me.'

---Sir Thomas Browne

I am far too often all replete with very me.

And today I am also replete with cake. Cake for breakfast, cake for lunch. It's disgusting. Hopped on my bike this afternoon and rode all the way to Victory Home. Those of you who know the route may marvel that I lived to tell the tale. Whew, in retrospect, it may not have been a wise idea. I had intended to ride back too (first trip to offset breakfast, second to offset lunch!) but fortunately, circumstances prevented me. Guess that piece of cake will have to reside on gluteous maximus for a while.

I've been working out at the Y, and walking nearly daily, and working hard at the warehouse, but I need to step it up if I'm going to look like Jaclyn Smith's (younger) sister this summer. I lean more toward Glenn Beck right now, so I have my work cut out for me.

That's all right, though; I could look like Willie Nelson...or Commander Worf...or Maude...or Gary Oldman...wait, scratch that - I DO look like Gary Oldman.

Evidently, I'm replete with many celebrities and a big chunk of vanity and three pieces of chocolate cake with chocolate chips and buttercream frosting and fondant. No wonder I feel so bloated.


Modemom said...

Never give up the ship! (Just stay off the highways on your bicycle.)

Brenda Christmas said...

Bwah -hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!

(and please pass the chocolate cake!)