Mmm, Sunday. Sunday. Day of the sun. Day of life and rebirth. Day of eating that last frozen bagel. Day where my 3 PM wakeup is finally justified. Day for laying out the week ahead.
Let’s see… twenty-three hours of work…
Yep, that just about covers it. That’s okay, though, because I’m getting some great thinking done in the off-work hours. Like that awesome saying I thought up the other day… what was it? “Three ways to live life… head in the clouds… head on shoulders…” No, that wasn’t it. Shit, what’d I think up? I’ve gotta write this shit down.
Fuck, did I eat that bagel yesterday? Who ate my bagel? That bagel was going to anchor my Saturday. Now I don’t know what to do. Should I buy more bagels?
Oh ho, forgotten yogurt, eh? Thought you could make it to expiration safely, didn’t you? Looks like you only fell eight hours short – I admire your effort, yogurt. I shall only eat three-quarters of your remainders – the rest shall reach the promised land.
Alright, 4:30. Time to watch my X-Files episode. I believe today I shall watch… “Quagmire”, the lake monster episode. Fine episode, plus I haven’t seen it in almost two weeks.
Fuck, who am I kidding? I should do some reading. Build the mind, expand the horizons, etcetera. “Paris Hilton Ordered Back to Jail”… now, you see, that’s why I didn’t go for full-time at the Booster Juice. Money makes bad people. I bet Paris Hilton doesn’t take time off to just think about the state of things, or the way things should be. You’d think she’d enjoy the time in jail to get some musing done… I guess some people just don’t appreciate the finer things.
Ugh, yogurt! Urrrgh… what vigorous sport you make! Nope… not… gonna… break… free… Pheoow. Okay, nice try, but you’re dealing with a seasoned vet.
What next? “Video: The Tank Man – Everyone should watch”… oh yeah, that Tienneman Square guy. See, sure, he’s courageous and a hero, but he was really just in the right place at the right time. I could totally do that; I just need to move to a more tank-populated area. Man, that’d be the life… just crossing the street, stopping up some tanks for a few minutes, then being an icon for a few decades… fuck, maybe I should go to Iraq. Not in the Army or anything crazy, but just go and pull some kids out of burning buildings or something. I could probably coast on that for years, living off some heroic pension fund, or maybe some book signings, once I got around to writing a book. Fuck, maybe I’ll just have it ghost-written.
Alright, maybe I’ll start small. I’ll watch this X-Files, then go to the shitty part of town, and see if anyone needs help. Maybe I can point some junkie the needle exchange clinic or something.
The fuck? Why’s my bagel in the VCR? …shit, okay, today will be devoted to kicking pot. Some Files, maybe I’ll rewatch North by Northwest, maybe some perogies, this bagel, and no pot. All right, let’s go.
Maybe I’m not standing in front of a tank, but man, I’m standing in front of something.
I’m gonna write that down.