EMOTIONAL. OPRAH.

I AM NOT A PROMOTER OF ONE BEING EMOTIONAL. I FIND MYSELF TO BE SOMEWHAT STABLE. I RARILY GET HEATED. AND IT IS RARE TO FIND ME BOUNCING OFF OF WALLS. I RESIDE IN A HAPPY MEDIUM. THE PAST TWO WEEKS HAVE BEEN QUITE THE EXCEPTION. MY MIND GREW LEGS AND STARTED WALKING BACKWARDS. RATHER SKILLFULLY. IT KNEW THE PRECISE LOCATIONS TO PIT STOP, AND HARDLY FUMBLED ITS WAY THERE. I DUG OUT MY OLD BODY PILLOW TO SLEEP WITH, WHICH WAS STILL ABOUT 3 FEET TOO SHORT. I RESTRICTED CERTAIN JOHN MAYER SONGS FROM MY IPOD. AND I ATE A WHOLE BOX OF BROWNIE BATTER, SOLO. I AM PRETTY SURE I COULD HAVE SENT IN A SHORT FILM TO PARAMOUNT AND BEEN THE INSPIRATION FOR JENNIFER ANNISTON'S NEXT SAPPY CHICK FLICK. YET IN THE LAST 24 HOURS I HAVE TRANSFORMED FROM JEN TO ANGELINA. FROM SAPPY LONER TO POWERHOUSE WARRIOR. MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE USED XENA AS MY REFERENCE INSTEAD OF ANGELINA. POINT BEING: YAWEH CAN USE SOME BIZARRE SITUATIONS TO SHINE LIGHT ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW PATH YOU ARE WALKING.  

ON TO MY AUTOMOBILE. MY WONDERFUL FATHER IS WORKING ON IT THIS WEEKEND, AND I AM HOPING ITS THIRSTING FOR ONLY A NEW BATTERY. MY WALLET IS THIRSTING FOR A MIRACLE. OR FOR OPRAH TO SHOW UP ON MY DOORSTEP. JUST SAYIN.