I had some dreams ... they were klowns in my koffee.


(With apologies to Carly Simon)


This is my journey through job transition from a toxic environment to a better life. Join me for a few thoughts and a few laughs along the way.
What are "klowns in my koffee"? They are the factors large and small that make you less than you are. A "klown" can be a grossly incompetent boss,
a short-sighted policy or a moronic coworker. They won't kill you, at least not immediately, but they abrade the soul
as you scrape past them to get through the day. Sometimes it's best to dump them out of the cup.


Friday

Day 321 - Barbie Gaga

Daily Kup (My Life as the Snow Melts)
A bit of warmth refreshes the landscape. With warmer temperatures predicted for this weekend, there's hope that the icicle forming a pillar on the northeast corner of my house may fall without impaling anyone. And perhaps without taking off a section of the roof. Oh, what a dreamer.

Climbing on roofs to shovel has become a kind of competitive sport in Minnesota this winter. Every third house has grown a ladder that seems to be permanently positioned from the walkway to the lowest roof access point. With ice dams that seem Zamboni-ready, our house could use a little shoveling. Unlike the summer house painting adventure, at least the prospect of falling off into the snow sounds like a softer landing. Unless I fall under the killer icicle.

Bad Romance with Ken












Oh, like YOU haven't ever started the weekend by dressing a Barbie in pickle-pimento loaf.

4 comments:

phil knapp said...

I love the meat ensemble. But I'm a butcher by trade. I think you might have some evidence of mental illness.
Your brother

Burning Khrome said...

Thanks for checking out my blog. As for the allegation of mental illness, I think we can agree that it is an inherited trait.

phil knapp said...

I follow your blog everyday, but Trevor finially taught me how to post a comment on it. Check your FB once in a while.
Phil

Burning Khrome said...

I'll try but I have Facebook-o-phobia, the fear that I will fall into Farmville and never return.

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