Sloth

Watching Michael Phelps on TV makes me feel slothful. Like if I was an animal or if I believed in that weird animus/daemon/spirit creature crap, I would be a sloth. A horn-toed sloth. But maybe I would have a colorful tail, like a parrot. Or perhaps I could be a mixture of parrot and sloth...a paroth. Still with horny toes.

I'm sorry. I dont know where this is coming from. You know whats funny though? After 8 Olympic gold medals, Michael Phelp's mother still breaks down in tears. I know its an emotional rush but still after 8 medals and 14 total golds, you think the woman would be used to this by now. But I digress...I'm not a mother nor will my children ever win 8 Olympic gold medals in swimming. In archery maybe but not swimming. Oh you didnt know? Koreans are expert shots. Expert. We also excel at pistol shooting apparently but I love how we are not very good at Taekwondo, even though the sport originated there. And I thought it was a young Korean boy's way of life. The hand-and-foot combat. I guess they just dont make foot soldiers like they used to.

I'm putting together a birthday wish list and all I can come up with is a new planner. I feel like I should be turning 50 with a possible Alzheimer's approaching.