The Point Being..........

Welcome back to "This Wonderment".  I'm your host, Alex Pendragon.  Today I will be describing in painfully acute detail what it's like to be a Male Cancerian Patient Care Technician inflicted with house-husbandry, animal husbandry, health related issues, and back issues you may have missed having been reading blogs much more interesting than mine.  I don't blame you for that last part because, quite frankly, I have been doing much the same thing.  I used to be a RABID fan of my own blogs until I realized that I was the one most responsible for my hit counter exceeding one digit.  That's kinda like self-publishing your own novel and buying them all up for yourself.  I'd even autograph them but my handwriting sucks.  I also have one of those signatures that a person can actually understand.  It's not just this insane scrawl that doctors especially are famous for (I think they do that for plausible denial purposes); you can actually read my name, because my signature actually spells it out, like any half-way decent signature should.  I mean, unless your name is SLarph, why are you spelling it SLarph?
The point I'm trying to eventually arrive at here is that it's not always the point that's important, but often times the journey towards it is.  Kinda like a love affair gone nowhere; you may not be there and might never have been meant to be there, but the trip towards it can certainly put a spring in your step.  Someone is always saying "it was meant to be" as though no matter how hopeless it seems that it ever WILL "be", it will end up "being" because it was written down in God's little playbook somewhere, only they never seem to be able to track down that one particular page and show it to you.  Thus when your sneaking suspicion that something isn't really going to "be" and probably never was meant to, it's no really big surprise.  Me, I don't really like surprises, because they include the nasty as well as the cool things that can happen to you, and I prefer to see especially bad shit headed my way, on the off-chance I can duck just in time.  The very worst of times in MY time here on this ball of toxic dirt have been surprises, things I never would have seen coming had I not gotten into the habit of expecting them.  That part of your life spent expecting while it doesn't really happen is especially sweet.  Unless of course it's that something you really, really wanted to happen.  Then, well, it can be somewhat excruciating, deep down inside were it gnaws at you in that special, secret way.
So, back to the point I was heading towards but got detoured away from.  Sometimes I don't have anything especially read-worthy to write about.  By read-worthy, I'm not talking about those particularly brilliant pieces I write on occasion (like this one) that I so enjoy creating, but those rare moments in blog history when everyone who stumbles across a singular post which grabs their interest like a blue crab and causes them to involuntarily "follow" you from that day forward, after which they will continually try to explain to people they know and respect why they seem so devoted to this one blog.  That's because they honestly don't KNOW why they are, so, in an attempt to seem a little bit less insane, they never bring up the subject in polite conversation again, much like the abduction victim learns to quit courting the rubber room with insistences that they damn well KNOW what an alien looks like, tyvm!  So if you HAVE to keep your love of my blog a secret.....I understand.  I try not to tell anyone but you that I write it.