I have the day off today.
While I appreciate having a break, and I savored getting to sleep in a bit, I have a funny habit of turning these off days into a tiresome grind of backbreaking labor, depression, and flavorless gruel.
A day off in early May should really be a great opportunity to go outside, take a run, relax in the sunshine, and pet nearby dogs. Unfortunately, the temperature today in Minneapolis is in the low 40′s with a bitterly cold rain cascading down the streets of my neighborhood, washing all joy from the earth. I sit in the darkened basement of this house, listening to local bands destined for obscurity and futility, wearing a shirt that dates back to the mid-90′s. My fingernails are dirty, my glasses are smudged, and I am carrying the vague scent of milk. This is what happens to me when I don’t work.
Upstairs I have a laundry list of chores to complete, but at the moment I feel capable of little more than continuing the sustention of my life through Ho-Ho ingestion. Maybe later I’ll take on a more formidable task like cleaning the bathroom, paying bills or removing the colony of ticks from my scalp. For now, I can’t be bothered with such things. I’m busy enough hacking out this miserable tripe for you ingrates.
I know well how all of you love to come by here a couple times a week and mock me in my feeble attempts at happiness. You’re lucky I haven’t decided to turn this into one of those horrible, horseshit blogs where people whine about their love life or speculate on the emotional significance of college. Screw those blogs – their inane, narcissistic drivel is a waste of binary code. Who really wants to read that 4000-word manifesto about your awesome weekend? Does anybody in the real world truly desire to visit your blog to find out how great your friend Stacy from high school is? Of course not! People hate you. Suck it up, deal with it, and make your blog worth our time. Tell us about the unbridled majesty of powdered sugar or something. Come to think of it, that might be a good JLP post…
Well, that just about does it for post #231. Can’t say I enjoyed myself. Can’t say I feel any motivation to continue my raspy, labored breathing. Can’t say I won’t apply an unnecessary tourniquet to my left leg later this afternoon. This one’s been a treat for both of us.
Seriously though, how are you?