Notes on Doing Nothing

Here I sit, having lived the life of a true bachelor over much of the weekend. The dog is playing his game of chew-the-rotten-two-year-old-plush-toy, occasionally dropping the slobbery unidentifiable lump of squeaky red and white fur at my feet, just long enough for me to attempt a grab and throw maneuver in hopes of giving him extra exercise; before I can accomplish that however he grabs it and runs. In his head, we're playing a game. In mine, he's annoying the shit out of me. Daddy's tired from being a sloth, now run along bite something.

Anyway, I sit here stuffed with pulled-steak tacos from our neighborhood's favorite Mexican delivery, yesterday's shorts, running shoes and gym shirt sit in the same pile to which they fell as I walked-in and stripped down, proud of my cardiovascular effort; now defeated by said tacos. Empty Vitamin Water and Crystal Lite containers clutter the kitchen counter top space, several empty bottles of my favorite cranberry juice are stacked next to the fridge, my hope that they'll make it to this week's recycling pick-up. Oh, did I mention the huge Diet Coke stain on my sleeveless tee? Yep, got one of those too. Those who know me would be surprised at the scene. I'm a neat and clean kinda guy. Yep, that's me. Most of the time anyway; but sometime between Thursday afternoon and Saturday morning my giva damn gave out, in desperate need for recharge so I've wallowed in my bachelorness, proud of my stain and my cluttered apartment and the 10 o'clock shadow any body-hair-loving sodomite would envy.

It's been a carefree weekend here, if not entirely productive. I hope the same for you.

Posted by JD on July 15, 2007 7:42 PM