It's Getting Hot in Here...What with the Abundance of Hot Air Escaping My Pie-Hole

If there is one lesson in life I am destined to learn again and again and again. And again. It is this: I don't know shit.

I feel compelled to share that with you. I don't know everything. I barely know anything. Whew. Now I can cross something off of my List of Things to Do Today:

Penance

Still on the List of Things to Do Today:

Shower
Polish my tiara
Shovel snow off the deck
Scare myself
Make dinner

Big day at Casa de Zube.

I've been perusing blogs recently, looking for a few good reads, and I have to tell you, I'm a little relieved that I'm not a BIG TIME BLOGGER. Honestly, it seems a lot of the BIG TIME BLOGGERS like to serve up an over-sized helping of 'I Know Everything' without the requisite side of 'But Really, I'm Pretty Much an Asshole, Just the Same As You' that makes it possible, enjoyable even, to gobble up the morsels they're tossing out.

I wonder, sometimes, if I come across that way. Rereading that last paragraph, I'm gagging on a bit of doubt.

Whaddya know? Turns out I am an asshole. Just like you?

I like to think I walk the fine line, in my ramblings here, between, These Are My Truths and I Have a Hankering to Share Them with You Just in Case One Might Strike Your Fancy, and Hey, I'm a Dumbass Who Can't Figure out My Own Shit, Much Less Yours!

I wouldn't be surprised, though, if I teeter into the realm of sounding like a Know-It-All. How I see me and how you see me are two entirely different things. And I have the most to learn by examining the latter. Not obsessing, mind you. I have to ignore the gene that predispositions me to care too much what you think while still taking it into consideration. That's one of the finest lines I walk.

Anyway, I don't need anyone serenading me with a midnight rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings" (Brad, I'm looking at you). More importantly, I'm not going to pretend I'm the wind beneath anyone's wings. Because mostly? The opposite is true. I am surrounded by people who make it possible for me to fly. Wait, did I just call you windy? I didn't mean it like that...

This post was brought to you by my inability to decide what to write about today. See what happens when I go throwing caution to the wind? Also? It's super windy outside. I've got wind on my mind.

Speaking of wind...I had the wind knocked outta me. While I was flying high, too. It always seems to happen that way, doesn't it?

Oh well, I think having a non-perfect, kinda turbulent life makes writing about it far more interesting. If I had all the answers, I'd be just another, windy, know-it-all. As it stands, I lack a tiny bit of pride and have an incessant need to deplete my head of extra air.

But, at least, I'm not asking you to fly around on it.

PS- I feel the need to apologize to metaphors. Obviously, I needed to beat the shit out of something to make myself feel better.