Cutting a Hotdog

I just realized yesterday that I overanalyze things.  Perhaps for those of you that know me, this is the understatement of the century.  But here's how the realization came about:

I'm sitting at dinner yesterday with my mother and I have a hotdog on my plate.  It's on a bun, has little endpieces sticking out the sides, and is dressed with ketchup, mustard, and pickle relish.  My mom asks me if she can have a piece of my hotdog.  I say "of course you can have a piece of my hotdog," and she asks me to cut a piece off for her.  This is where I discover the difficulty in cutting a hotdog.  You see, there are so many ways to cut a hot dog.  Does she mean she literally wants a piece of the hotdog and only hotdog?  Then I should slice an endpiece off that has no bun.  But maybe she wants bun.  Ok, so if she wants bun, does she want lots of ketchup and mustard or just a little?  What about relish; should there be a good chunk of relish on there as well?  If that's the case I should take a piece straight out from the middle...but wait that's just silly cause then I have to deal with two pieces of hotdog.  But what if......  After about two minutes of staring at the hotdog in my plate, my mom finally says "Alan".  Then it hits me that I should just ask her which portion she wants.  I do, and everything runs smoothly thereafter.

Now, I ask, how many of you would take 2 full minutes to cut a piece of hotdog, much less take that much time to even think of asking the person which piece they want instead of trying to figure it out for yourself?  Well, there's my brain in a nutshell.  That's how I approach pretty much everything in my life.  I thought this was normal, sort of....but somehow taking 2 minutes to slice a hotdog just isn't. 

Back Again

Wow, has it really been since June 10th since I edited this thing?  Craziness.  Anyway I'm finally feeling myself again.  It was just this past weekend that I started exercising my normal 3 hours a day again, so yeah.  It's good times.  I'm getting into basketball, and a collection of my friends and I have started playing regularly. Knowing these kids, it's gonna get competitive fast which means it's time to start plyometrics.  So there's a summary of the surface stuff, and now we dive in.  So I'm at dinner last week with 2 of my close friends, and by the end I realized that they didn't understand me.  Here's what happened.  We begin talking about careers.  I tell them I want to be a teacher.  They then inform me that teaching isn't a very productive job, and that you don't get paid well.  Though I disagree with the first, I did agree with the second, which is why I want to teach community college and not grade school.  I tell them this and they say "what are you gonna do, check out the girls all day long?"  At this point I'm annoyed.  Then they tell me that I should be an engineer, even if I don't like it, because it pays better.  I try to explain to them how passionate I am about it, how much I think I'll enjoy it, and that I'll be able to do it really well.  However they are unable to understand, and continue making fun of me and trying to steer me toward other professions.  I guess I was just dissapointed that two people I've known since 6th grade are unable to understand my passion for education.  Oh well. 

Mountain Bike: 2, Alan: 0

So two days ago I had my second mountain bike crash that landed me in the hospital.  I was going off about a five foot drop and I messed up my takeoff.  My chest came down on my handlebars and my hip came down on something metal, though I'm not exactly sure what.  Basically I ended up with a bruised hip, a bruised liver, bruised adrenal glands, and a little hole in my lung.  I'm alright now though.  I'm breathing.  It's good times.  However it did get me thinkin' though.  Right after I crashed I had to wait on a street corner for my uncle to come pick me up.  I was sitting there, not able to breathe very well because of my lung, and I was coughing up a whole bunch of blood.  Then I started getting colder and I got really dizzy, and the thought ran through my head that I could die.  I mean not really...but then again I'm cold and dizzy and coughing up blood.  So I started thinking about who I should call and what I should say to them.  Then I realized that even if I live I should probably take the time to say those things anyway.  So expect a call in the next few weeks :)

Today at work was a...how you say....a "learning" experience...

How to totally screw up a sales call:

1.  Know exactly what you're talking about.

2. Don't actually know what you're talking about.

3. Don't discover step 2 until you're talking on the phone with the customer

4. Every time the customer asks a question have the thought "derrrrrrrrrrr" go through your head.