Me & Alex P. Keaton

I know by saying this, I'm jinxing it. 

But my history shows that, 

while I may be able to keep my thoughts from being vocalized,

I am not so great at stopping these little digits from 

diligently documenting my every idea.

BUT

I haven't been sick in a little while. 

And when I was sick, it was for a normal length of time. 

My ever-so-brief foray into teaching had me on my deathbed.

This time last year, I was the sickest of dogs

and no holiday cheer was to be found.

Having been raised by a doctor, 

I never go to one.

I can count on one hand and a half hands the number of times

I can recall going to the doctor.

(Obviously, going as a baby doesn't count

because babies need shots and are pansies.)

So this year, 

even though I despise my co-workers and I'm facilitating

the evil of work of the welfare state,

I am thankful that my place of work is not overrun

by grody guttersnipes.

I also love the fact that I can say, with 95% certainty,

(there's always room for error + people are disgusting) 

that I am not anywhere near someone else's bodily fluid, 

nor is it my job to clean it up.  

I've gotten past the easy, fill-in-your-information part of law school apps.

I now have to actually think and write and it sucks.

I don't have any dramatic story to use for my personal statement, 

and my resume is looking pretty sparse. 

I'm thinking about submitting the lyrics to this song as my personal statement.

Too bold?

(The band created this as a parody, but it's a decent summation of my actual beliefs.)

Because this post is so short & lame, 

here's two of my favorite things from this past week:

This was God's way of telling me there was a reason I haven't

been to WWofHP yet.

He's always got a plan.

It's supposed to open in summer of 2014, so happy birthday to meeeee.

And this:

Love me some pro-gun ladiez.