What things may come

Oftentimes, I get bored. Like, really bored. In the past, my boredom has heralded excellence, and at other times my boredom results in me eating with my left hand. Because I’m a righty. And righties don’t do that. Eat with their left hand. Its like an unspoken agreement between your cerebral cortex and the dominant hand. Think of it as a prenup of coordination.

Oh, speaking of dominant (and prenup, for that matter) the Discovery Center catalog I received yesterday offers classes on bondage. BONDAGE. Seriously? Seriously. This same catalog offers classes on “contact bridge”, “how to use the Internet”, and “flyfishing for beginnners”. And, to top it off, there is a $35 materials fee! My kingdom to work the Discovery Center bookstore on that day and “book sell back” day. That’s right, MY KINGDOM!

Anyway, eating with my left hand has proven to be the most difficult thing I’ll do today (and that’s including watching Heroes with my pants around my ankles). When I lift that fork to my face, it takes every ounce of my concentration to not “feed my eye”. No doubt I resemble a squirrel trying to eat a Charms blowpop, but without the innate cuteness, adorableness, or furry-tail-ness. Yes, boredom has reduced me to a small woodland creature. The kind that come scampering when a song is sung in the forest - including (but not limited to) anything Disney, Dreamworks, or John Philip Sousa.

See, if there’s something this world needs its lessons on how to eat with your non-dominant hand. I can’t tell you *how many times* I’ve found myself in harm’s way because I can’t eat with my left hand. Discovery Center, are you listening? Drop that Surviving the Hospital class and pick mine up. If you’re reading this, and you’re interested in knowing how to Survive the Hospital, I can boil the class down to one phrase: be alive. There. Now where the hell is my $10 materials fee?