Similes, Hyperbole and Nouns (oh my!)

 

(My first attempt at writing a piece using literary devices)

220px-Smokey3


I woke up this morning after a short five hours of sleep. I was so tired from the night before, I felt like I could have slept for days. I shuffled my way for what seemed like forever into the bathroom to get ready for my day.

I fumbled for the light switch on the wall, and clicked it on. A flood of blinding light that was brighter than the sun enveloped my small bathroom. I shielded my eyes for an eternity until I was able to make out the silhouette of myself in the mirror.

When I came into focus, my hair looked like a porcupine on steroids. It looked as though I had used way too much Aqua Net hairspray, and if I moved my foot just so on the carpet, I would start a blaze that would take down Yellowstone National Park. And Smokey the Bear too. Sorry, Smokey.

I turned on the tap for my shower. The water that gushed out was colder than a witches’ tit. It also took a bazillion years for the water to become lukewarm. Stupid hot water heater. After the water warmed up to my taste, I disrobed and hopped into the shower. I hopped out of the spray faster than a speeding bullet to avoid getting burned by the water that was now coming out hotter than the surface of the Sun and Johnny Depp combined. ( I don’t know why I have this infatuation with Johnny Depp, I think it might be his accent. Lol.)

After my shower fiasco, I got dressed in my usual denim jeans and tank top. I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get rid of the morning breath that could keep a vampire at bay.

Now that I am all clean and ready for the day, I go downstairs to eat breakfast. At this point, I am so hungry, I could eat a horse. Or two horses. I decide to have some bacon and eggs to quench my hunger. Even though I am starving, I eat slower than a snail. I have been a slow eater forever.

It takes me an entire day to eat a sandwich. I eat so slow that when I am finished eating breakfast, it is already time for lunch. In fact, when I am eating lunch, I am already thinking about what I am going to eat for dinner. No joke.

Now…what am I going to eat for lunch?

I am so Punny (pun intended)

Stack Of Cash

My husband and I went to get our taxes done a few days ago. We have been going to the same accountant for the last 3 years. He is a friend and my husbands’ co-worker. A very trustworthy and easy going guy.

We were sitting at the desk getting our taxes done, and somehow the subject came up regarding non profit organizations. My husband asked our tax preparer, “So, how does a non profit organization make a profit if it is supposed to be a non profit?”

Our tax preparer said, ” That is a good question, I will have to look into that. I think they can make up to a certain amount as profit, but still be classified as a non profit.”

To that my husband replied, “But wouldn’t that make them a for profit organization, since they are making a profit? I mean, how can a non profit legitimately make money that doesn’t get used for charity or whatever they use it for?”

I chimed in, “I think they call that false profit.”

Ba dum dum.

We had a good laugh and it lightened the mood a bit. That wasn’t the only thing that was lightened that day, though. Our wallets are going to take a while to bounce back from this one.

How do you define happiness?

I reminisce about my childhood a lot. Probably more than I should.

I think about the times that I would get the urge to go roller skating. I would have to dig to the bottom of my closet to find my skates. White boots with bright orange wheels. I can still remember the sound that the wheels made when I spun them.

“Tssstssssstsssssssstsssssss” they would say to me, spinning around and around.

I loved the way those skates made me feel. As soon as I made the last loop to secure the skates snugly onto my feet, I was on the lacquered wood floor. Flying around the rink at full speed, while the cold air hit my face.

I make the first turn, crossing foot over foot for a smooth transition into the curve. A few other kids are skating around the rink. I smile at them as I pass and I feel…what’s that word? Oh yeah….happy.

Happiness. The happiness that goes along with being a child. The innocent, pure, uncorrupted happiness that you feel when you are that age. Nine, ten, eleven years old.

That is the age that you sit outside and eat your orange Popsicle as fast as you can before the blazing summer sun turns it into a sweet sticky glove all over your hand.

It’s the age when you ride your bike to your friends’ house, then call your mom to ask if you can stay the night.

When you have a pool party for your birthday, complete with a piƱata shaped like your favorite Disney princess.

Now that I am an adult, I keep trying to find those “happy childhood” moments. I am afraid they just don’t exist anymore. All those happy childhood moments cannot be recreated. The innocence has been lost. The purity has been stolen. The corruption has taken over.

I would love to have just one more day, one more hour, one more second of my childhood back.

Maybe then I would not have been in such a hurry to grow up.