I don’t use the snooze button. Never have, never will. I set my alarm to go off at the last possible minute to try and choke all the potential sleep out of the nights lungs.
Sleep is rad.
The snooze button. Whether it’s on your phone, alarm clock or whatever. I just don’t get it. At its absolute base level – hitting the snooze button means that you’ve set your alarm to go off before you need it to go off. Before you need to get out of bed.
I recently noticed that I’ve been saying the word solid a lot; as a substitute for excellent or enjoyable. I have absolutely no idea where I picked up this new linguistic quirk or for just how long I’ve been using it.
Now I wonder how long it will take for people I spend time with to start using it in the same way. Word viruses are fun.
I woke up this morning in my shower, with the water still running, and suffering from a Memento-esque memory haze. Apparently, after a night of significant revelry, I decided to have shower upon returning home. No big deal.
But the plot thickens. By inadvertently blocking the drain with my highly intoxicated self half an inch of water now covers the floor across the entirety of my apartment.
Despite having absolutely no idea how to deal with the copious amount of unwanted water I reflect on how thankful I am that my apartment didn’t come with a bathtub.
This morning I received a phone call from a woman I’ve never met. She told me her name was Tina and that she wanted to talk to me about insurance. It took every ounce of my self control not to state in a frustrated tone “Tina, you fat lard, come get some dinner.”
Dish towels. Or tea towels if you live somewhere a little more colonial. Pretty innocuous right? Usually found hanging from the oven handle in kitchens all over the world. Perfect for drying dishes and wiping up spills. Potentially the understated MVP of the kitchen.
Or are they callous betrayers and the spawn of the goddamn devil?
Today I walked past a woman on the street. Well, I actually walked past many women on the street. I imagine I passed a countless number of women without seeing them as anything other than another obstacle to navigate on the streetscape. Equality yo.
Some I did notice. One in particular caught and held my attention.
I’ll admit, the prime cause of this noticing was most usually because I found these passing strangers to be attractive. Shiny. I’m not sure if it’s OK to find women attractive in these modern times, or call them shiny, but the truth is the truth. I get distracted by shiny things. Women included. If I were a bower bird decorating my nest it would be built and decorated with attractive women. Well, I mean, um… Hmm. That metaphor took a decidedly grim turn. I leave it up to you to come up with your own. Hopefully one that’s a little less Ed Gein-y.