I have been misusing the popular expression "screaming ninnies." I employ it to describe my spastic, spasming, enormously painful periods of CRPS dystonia. I say that I have the screaming ninnies.
Which makes no sense at all.
Still, it's a habit, and I'll likely continue to misuse it for lack of another phrase that feels right, that encompasses the realities of screaming bloody murder at a cellular level, my cell's uvulae all a-quiver, feeling bat shit nuts, and personifying inanity, all at the same time -- ka-boom.
I'm so sick. Don't roll your eyes. Usually, I get by with the assumption that there is a problem list in play, and that as I work the problem, the solutions will come, the list will end, and voilà, the problems have been put to rest, put to bed, are gone. Stupid git!
Oh, I am thankful, don't worry. This blog, as you know, could be converted into a top-notch inspirational gratitude journal, with an at-the-ready daily devotional. I cannot begin to count the number of emails I've received, begging me to extend my upbeat, compassionate musings to readers worldwide... but c'mon, people, who the hell has time? Just pick a post, any post, read it, and be glad.
While screaming obscenities last evening, I got tickled, to use the vernacular, and therefore was giggling, weeping, and yelling, pretty much simultaneously. (The simultaneity of things is the rip tide in this, my ocean.) Curse words are not very satisfying. So, of course, I called out "shitake mushrooms" over and over, laughing at such a honed wit -- because laughter demands an indirect object.
I can't stop talking when I am this sick. Rather, I cannot stop saying the same phrases over and over, and rarely can I sustain an adult-appropriate conversation that doesn't reek of, well, onions. Oh, all right, desperation. "[T]hat doesn't reek of desperation..." I'm hungry.
Okay, so let's replace "screaming ninnies" and "shitake mushrooms."
When I was "altered" and in ICU recently, I apparently wore myself out by my frequent "O, God" exclamations and moans, which resulted in one crazy Me screaming to another crazy Me: "Shut up! God ain't here right now!"
Yes, I verified the "ain't."
Further rumination on ninny would yield little. We should, though, honor the prominence of the gerund because this term is, frankly, very verbal, hyperactive, and stuck that way, like a gerund.
The ear must be pleased and satisfied. There needs to be texture, the aural and verbal equivalent of *crunch*.
Which makes no sense at all.
Still, it's a habit, and I'll likely continue to misuse it for lack of another phrase that feels right, that encompasses the realities of screaming bloody murder at a cellular level, my cell's uvulae all a-quiver, feeling bat shit nuts, and personifying inanity, all at the same time -- ka-boom.
I'm so sick. Don't roll your eyes. Usually, I get by with the assumption that there is a problem list in play, and that as I work the problem, the solutions will come, the list will end, and voilà, the problems have been put to rest, put to bed, are gone. Stupid git!
Oh, I am thankful, don't worry. This blog, as you know, could be converted into a top-notch inspirational gratitude journal, with an at-the-ready daily devotional. I cannot begin to count the number of emails I've received, begging me to extend my upbeat, compassionate musings to readers worldwide... but c'mon, people, who the hell has time? Just pick a post, any post, read it, and be glad.
While screaming obscenities last evening, I got tickled, to use the vernacular, and therefore was giggling, weeping, and yelling, pretty much simultaneously. (The simultaneity of things is the rip tide in this, my ocean.) Curse words are not very satisfying. So, of course, I called out "shitake mushrooms" over and over, laughing at such a honed wit -- because laughter demands an indirect object.
I can't stop talking when I am this sick. Rather, I cannot stop saying the same phrases over and over, and rarely can I sustain an adult-appropriate conversation that doesn't reek of, well, onions. Oh, all right, desperation. "[T]hat doesn't reek of desperation..." I'm hungry.
Okay, so let's replace "screaming ninnies" and "shitake mushrooms."
When I was "altered" and in ICU recently, I apparently wore myself out by my frequent "O, God" exclamations and moans, which resulted in one crazy Me screaming to another crazy Me: "Shut up! God ain't here right now!"
Yes, I verified the "ain't."
Further rumination on ninny would yield little. We should, though, honor the prominence of the gerund because this term is, frankly, very verbal, hyperactive, and stuck that way, like a gerund.
The ear must be pleased and satisfied. There needs to be texture, the aural and verbal equivalent of *crunch*.
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