Stream of Consciousness

It’s almost two in the morning and I have to get up in about four and a half hours for work, but since I had a power nap when I took the kid to bed, I’m up. My wife was doing some cardio-step in front of the TV, so I came downstairs to read the paper online. Eventually I got hungry, so I headed back upstairs to get something to eat. That’s when a bunch of things just started going through my head.

I was going to make an omelette, but being about 1:15 am at that point, I wasn’t feeling very industrious, so I just crammed all of the ingredients into my Magic Bullet (yes, I have one and I love it) and blended the bejesus out of everything. I had eggs, mushrooms, tomato and spinach in there and of course, the spinach took over and made everything this sickly looking green. It’s amazing how that colour of green triggered a flashback.

I went back to high school (I must have been about 16 at the time) and thought about this time when a few friends and I went to one guy’s house to watch the early version of MMA. The guy’s parents were doing some BBQ and offered us some burgers and stuff, so of course, we obliged. Apparently so did his dog, which we didn’t know. So while we were watching the fights, his dog started walking kind of funny and then started making these heaving motions like he was choking on something. Clear as day, I remember saying, “Dude, what’s going on with your dog?” to which the guy replied, “I dunno, I think it was too hot for him outside…maybe he needs some water or something.” As he stepped away to get some water, the dog barfed up the burgers and whatever the hell else he had eaten and it was lumpy green…the same green as the omelette mixture I had just created.

So moving back to present day, now I am standing in front of the stove in the wee hours staring at some food I have just prepared, not sure whether or not I want to eat it, even though I am quite certain it is not vomit. I finished cooking it and then prepared a couple of omelette sandwiches, using some pepper and an extra slice of tomato on top…and it was delicious. But looking at the sandwich in between bites, I was in conflict. I was enjoying the sandwich, but the look of it was confusing me. It’s sort of like when I see Serena Williams. I find her athleticism and drive attractive and she has a body that won’t quit, but at the same time, I fear that body also wouldn’t quit beating me into a pulp if in a street fight. Maybe that’s the appeal…no, I don’t think so…but I do know the fear that was going through that line judge’s mind when Serena told her what she was going to do with that tennis ball.

I started wondering why I stopped playing tennis. I used to play a ton growing up. I remember my dad teaching me the game, bringing out his old wooden Wilson racquet, the one that had the frame on it that would clamp shut, I believe to keep the racquet from warping…or to assist with making waffles should the urge arise. One of the two. I remember how my dad would wear the blue Adidas short shorts with the white stripes, the high top white socks with the blue stripes and a Sergio Valente t-shirt. Dude was kicking early 80s tennis style. He would run me from side to side, volley, volley, volley and then rip a forehand that would scare the life out of me. But he would do it all with a smile. I loved it.

But I do remember why I stopped playing. It was baseball. I played so much tennis in my early teens and also pitched in baseball, which led to some serious tendinitis. My doctor said it was too much pressure on my elbow in my early teens and that I should probably choose one. I loved baseball more and was more naturally inclined, so I stopped playing…and that was pretty much it. Damn injuries.

I’m almost always injured…anything I play I do so with reckless abandon. I don’t know why. That’s just how I am. I have slammed into concrete outfield walls, metal outfield walls, lightpoles that were for some reason inside the fence and unprotected…anyway, I am going in for another MRI next week…I wonder how many MRIs and CT scans you can have before those things start to take some sort of effect on your body.

I should go to sleep now.


  1. avatar Wendy Says:

    Bought the Magic Bullet (well, hubby gave it to me as an Christmas present.. he’s lucky though because I actually prefer practical gifts) for the babies so I could make their food. It’s certainly served far greater purposes. And this omelette idea is swell. Need to try!

    I love tracking thought tangents. Mine can be quite silly.

  2. avatar Jay Says:

    The Magic Bullet is awesome. I just call it my smoothie machine, because it’s perfect for that, but occasionally, when I am lazy I will do an omelette in there.

    Yeah, some of these thoughts link together, but most of the time they don’t. Half the time I can’t even remember what I was thinking about.

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