Well, it got late rather quickly didn’t it? Especially if you were a dope like me and decided to nap without the much needed supervision of an alarm.
That’s how to do Friday evening. I can hear the paparazzi now, rushing towards my messed up hair and droopy eyes. I wonder if they’ll want a one-on-one interview with my pillow. Learn the secret to my snoring technique.
I knocked out a couple posts today much earlier than usual. That was really fun. I did “Bus Rain” on the way to work, and “Dawn Blade” a couple hours after that. I felt very rebellious, using my time on the clock to bust out some creative content. At least if I get fired, I have this place to back me up. I have what, like, nine amazing and beautiful followers now? I’m sure a check is in the mail for me as we speak. Well, as I type, and as you read. But pretend I’m still being succinct and clever.
It is quite strange to have a job where you are constantly interacting with inanimate objects. I have yelled, or rather, whisper-yelled, at so many books in my career that I almost believe I am actually nuts. They just won’t stay upright, and when they fall against the metal shelving, that unforgiving clang makes me feel like a cartoon character with a vibrating outline and pupils constantly growing and shrinking. I can’t handle it.
Today was leg day at the gym. Always a fun time. For all of you blessed with wonderful calves that just won’t quit; I get it. You look amazing in shorts. Stop flexing your natural beauty in front of me; you’re sure to make my pathetic little drumsticks cry one of these days.
I always have to be careful with leg day placement. I can’t just go and work them whenever I feel like it. Will I be walking a lot the next day? How intensive will my workday be? Did I make any plans for the afternoon or evening that involve a lot of time off of the couch? There’s a very real and analytical process that must be taken into account before any and all leg days. I feel like I should be allowed to put that on a resume.
I wonder why there isn’t yet some sleep supplement that radically increases the speed of the entire process. Eight to nine hours seems like a lot of time for the modern human to be spending in bed. Hell, sometimes I feel best after staying in my sweet soft palace of blankets and dreams for eleven hours. I feel bad directly afterwards, thinking of all the shenanigans I may have missed out on. The satisfying yawn argues against these thoughts, but we always come to an impasse in our argument.
I guess that means I should get to work on lucid dreaming. That way I can have my cake, as well as devour it whole if I so choose.
Cake is really the most inferior of all dessert items. Why would you not have ice cream, or pie?
This of course excludes chocolate lava cake. Still, most of the credit there goes towards the hot fudge. Credit where credit is due, and all that. Then if you pair that with some simple vanilla ice cream…
I should stop. It is far too late to satisfy any sort of craving.
I cannot believe two days is considered a standard weekend. Who feels refreshed after two days? Deities? Vampires? Whoever made the rule on five day work weeks is surely in cahoots with the actual devil. There’s no possible way a sane person came up with that. I guess by “sane”, I probably mean “working class”. Which, y’know, why let them come up with the rules? They just push dirt around or whatever, right?…What business are we running again? Staples? Is that all we sell?
Sigh. Oh, fake business man of the italic persuasion…why must you torment us so?