Saturday, February 2, 2013


I hate this. I hate, hate this. 
There's too much to do. 
I've got a seven page punch list hanging in the studio upstairs. 
Seven pages. 
Ironically the clipboard weighs too much for me to pick up. 
Irony sucks sometimes.
Alanis Morissette got it wrong, you know. She's apparently never really experienced irony. 
You wrote a song called Ironic and nothing you sang about was really all that ironic.
Maybe in Canada, irony is something different. It's like bacon. 
Here in America, Canadian bacon is ham
In Canada, bacon is bacon...ham is ham. 
And well...something else completely. 

Everyone keeps telling me to take it easy. 
It's one of those 'easy for you to say' things. 

See...there's the danger of feeling just a little good. Feeling pretty good, a little less shitty than the day before, is a bad thing. It's bad because you find yourself saying 'I feel kinda good today. I think...I think I can do something. TODAY IS THE DAY I WILL PULL MY OWN PANTS ON. TODAY I WILL SIT ON THE TOILET AND BE ABLE TO STAND AFTERWARDS."

And the height of the moment...just as you are about to slide your underpants at the top of your hips...and you feel like an adult again and not a three year old waiting to be dressed....your body says GOT YOU!! HAHAHAHA!"

And then you spend the next six hours sitting prone like the statue of Lincoln in the Lincoln Monument. 


I fell for it hook, line and sinker today. 
I felt just much better...and convinced myself I could stand at my drafting table and sort papers. HOW could sorting papers possibly be physically dangerous? WHAT could go wrong? 

Well...apparently a lot. 


1 comment:

  1. My poor man! For now on, let me put your pants on, ok? I really don't mind..(especially if I can get a glimpse of your cute tooshie)