He gave me a notebook to write in...he said...'write it all down in this book...you'll feel better'. Now, it didn't escape my consciousness that maybe he just got sick of my complaining to him constantly about this little thing or that, or the guy ahead of me in traffic who I was going to kill if I had a gun, or the woman chewing gum like a loud cow with a fat ass who's sitting next to me in a meeting, or the deadline that got changed 87 times to my displeasure (because I could go on & on about all the work I had to do to accommodate the deadline changer's whim...really...I could)...you see, this book has stopped the stream of constant shit loosely dribbling out of my mouth (you could say that this book has sort of been the fiber my attitude has needed in it's diet...are you with me here on the whole...diarrhea reference? eeewww...sorry for that).

You have to have a special place in your heart for someone who gives you a present like this. It takes thought & caring (& a little self preservation on his part...maybe) to be thoughtful enough to offer someone a place to vent where they will be granted full immunity to write whatever the hell they want without repercussions or judgements.

When it's full I may just let him read it...but I have to admit...it's with weak-knees that I'd invite anyone in to see my nonsensical, half-baked, deranged (he looks like a deranged Easter Bunny...a cookie to who(m)ever gets the source of that quote right...come on...you know it) rantings.

OK, posting on this blog is sort of along the same lines as writing in this book...but...then again...it just feels different. He's (hopefully) the only one who's going to read the screwy ramblings in this book...so, somehow it just seems more...more...I'm failing at thinking of the right word here...intimate? Nah...too strong...I'll think of the right word one of these days (& put it in the book).

I owe him a big, violent hug for this gift...thank you.