A new year, same old lazy me....
I woke up early on New Year's Day because I'm a loser who didn't stay up all night getting drunk. Plus I had work, because I somehow had gotten myself a job that requires people dumb enough to apply for the job to work holidays. Anyhow, the sun was out bright but it was visibly frigid outside and I turned up the thermostat, which has a mechanism that would allow me to schedule it to kick on automatically at certain times of the day and to specific temperatures, but even 7 years of living with such a luxury is not long enough, apparently, to combat my natural laziness and refusal to make the effort to learn how to engage such a mechanism.
I jumped onto the internet and scrolled through facebook, liking everyone's New Year's posts, except it was 7:30 in the morning and I became self-conscious because everyone would realize I was up so early and therefore a loser who didn't stay up all night getting drunk. So I checked my email.
Every other year
I seem to have a midlife
crisis. It bodes well
for my longevity, I
attempt to convince myself.
Much to my surprise a "secret admirer" had sent me a message stating:
"To a very handsome man,
May the New Year bring you much joy and find you in the
perpetual protection of the Angels, Buddhas and Immortals.
Your Secret Admirer"
That was nice. I had always wanted a secret admirer. Beginning in my youth, and even occasionally in the present, I have often times borne the misfortune of being a secret admirer myself, but never had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of one's affections or overtures. That, combined with the unexpected blessings of good will made my eyes well and forced me to fight back tears...although one (or two) managed to manifest through sheer will.
I took a screenshot of the email and forwarded it to my old buddy, Fat Milo, hoping it would make him envious. To my surprise he was awake and texted me back immediately.
"You sent it to yourself, last night. Right before you came to bed," he texted, circling the 9:30pm time stamp in the corner of the email with a digital red marker.
"So?" I texted back.
"So...what's the point?"
"I always wanted a secret admirer," I texted, simply.
I lamented my ever-present laziness, once more, in failing to establish a new, fictional email account instead of using a pre-existing one under my own name.
I ventured into the frost and into work, and spent the rest of the first day of the new year looking up pre-Socratic Greek philosophers on Wikipedia and playing chess frustratingly poorly on my phone. Basically, activities that didn't require me to actually do my job that I was getting paid to do.
The Cold and I--
When did we become
Such bitter enemies.
kept jerking off in public.
When asked what the hell
he was doing
he stated he only wished he could address
by rubbing his tummy.