The white blood cell burp and the hair gel bubble chipmunk

Today I felt like throwing my desk over.  I’m not angry or frustrated.  Brain-fried is more like it, but interestingly enough, not in a bad way.  I think I’m excited, and I think it’s because I found little informational nuggets and I’ve been socking them away in my cheeks like a squirrel.

My quest for information is never-ending and multi-faceted, and it resembles a 3-dimensional web.  It will take years for everything to come together in any semblance of order.  I’m telling my partner all this in a rush of excited chatter, how it’s really coming together after what has seemed like forever, although there’s such a long way left to go.

“See, I feel like I’m in a bottle of hair gel.”  And before I could clarify, I started laughing.  His dimples appeared.  He didn’t know what I was about to say next, but he did recognize the pattern…the pattern of my making extremely off-the-wall analogy-ridden and comparative statements.  Kind of like when I let out a burp that remained continuous but ebbed and flowed in segments and the image of a lobed white blood cell came to me, and being as abstract, random, and direct as I can be, I started off with a rock-star topic sentence: “A burp is like a white blood cell…”

So you see, I could have elaborated, and started talking about all the air bubbles suspended around me as I stood in this bottle of hair gel, little bubbles that I was going to reach out and grasp and put all together to make a really big bubble, but I don’t think it would’ve helped.  He might have preferred the unsaid mystery.  It doesn’t matter.  I’ll elaborate anyway.  And he’ll be proud of me, knowing I’m a slave-driving, stone-grinding worker that burns at both ends and still ends up fine.

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