I never worry. Now that is a lie.

I think that perhaps things are starting to to back to normal. Mr. Alldaffer is back, my mother has had her two larger-than-a-grapefruit/smaller-than-a-cantaloupe cysts removed.

As I write that, or even thought that, I began to wonder what "normal" is in life, and where the boundary lines that dictate normal and abnormal stand. It's a Mr. Alldaffer who has taught me to think this way, as I remember a class where we did nothing but debate where "right" and "wrong" or "good" and "evil" were. That, and Valley's constant argument that Friar Laurence was in fact not guilty even though... he's Tyler. Tyler is guilty.

"Black cards in effigy
We sing the song that was hated
All dressed in vagabonds
Sharks smell the blood that I'm bleedin'"

Perhaps I am over thinking roughly... everything... again, but to me that says to much. "Shake Shake Tambourine" by Beck. To some that is jibberish that sounds wonderful. To me it's jibberish that if carefully dissected makes perfect sense and is frankly amazing.

I love iPod/iTunes shuffle. I hate iTunes and iPod, and Apple in general. Steve Jobs and his company can die in a fire.

But I love the shuffle feature, and how well my iPod and iTunes perform it.

--

So, I'm sitting at work. And I'm feeling what it's like to be my mother on a daily basis, doing jobs she doesn't particularly care for for no money because no one else will do them and she's semi-self employed, so she doesn't get paid often, and I find myself thinking that I don't want to live my life like that. I want to make something out of myself.

I lied, I didn't think any of that.

Truth is, I just want everything to be about "normal." But there is no normal. I want everything to be the same. 

I'm too odd.