Woke this morning and put on my Monday’s finest. Headed out around twenty to nine. Planned to stop in the Falls for gas but started day dreaming of what I might smell like on the inside and ended up driving right by. Stopped a bit later on in Beamsville where I celebrated the frigid weather with a coffee and bagel. I tipped the girl 4 cents and drove away with my head held high.
Got to work and skillfully avoided walking in with people I knew who arrived at the same time. See, what I do is look down at my crotch and count the teeth on my zipper. Everyone assumes I’m tapping away on my Blackberry or knitting my cat some boots and they go on their way. If I end up having to accompany them in then the energy I expend pretending to like them just drains me. It drains me to the point where I’m not sure I can get out of my chair, waddle to the kitchen, grab the half-and-half, lock myself in the bathroom, turn out the lights and slam that fucker back. And yet, somehow I always dig deep and get the job done. Guess my 5th grade teacher was only half right when he called me a “lazy queer.”
Had a second cup of Joe at work and my gut felt like burning. Dowsed those flames with some soup and tuna. It didn’t work. Andrew supplied me with some almonds. That didn’t help either. Got home and Kat had some homemade soup and mini cheese-bacon sandwiches waiting for me. That did it.
So I have to get up at 3:30 so I can leave around 4. Get to work by 6. Be annoyed with everyone by 7. Take a dump around Noon and head home about 1. Get home about 3 and start drinking rye and gingers like I’m dying and they’re the cure. I guess metaphors aren’t really metaphors when they’re literally true. Meh, time for a drink.