I'm a disaster slug.
Hey Mom!
So this week everything went off the rails... my room is a disaster, my backpack is a disaster, the counter is a disaster, the floor is a disaster, my notes are a disaster, and my desktop is a disaster.
Basically I'm like a slug except I leave disaster in my wake instead of slime (although I've been sick all week so that's not untrue either). Now, I know what you're thinking: Mack, how can you live like this? Well, sometimes I walk around with my eyes closed so I don't have to deal with egregious nature of my mess making. I know it's weird but sometimes I find messes comforting, it's like an extension of my internal stress. So I take a look at the mess and think Yep, that's how I feel... finally a cluster of inanimate objects get me.
Despite the whole "wallowing in my own filth" thing, I've managed a number of personal victories this week. DUN DUN <-- this is the law and order sound in case you were wondering.
I finished two compositions TWO WHOLE DAYS before they were due... granted one of them was a narrative about a cigarette smoking duck who had been given the voice of Jean Reno so not exactly academic stuff but the other one so was academic that even the footnotes were pretentious.
As of today it is the start of toquesmas... if you don't know I wear the same toque 4-7 times a week from octoberish until sometime in the middle of May and I have decided that today is the perfect day to start up the toque festivities (it's rainy, it's cold, I desperately need to wash my hair). Grab your toques kids, we're going to celebrate!
A 3 year-old threw my Death Star on the floor because he thought it was a ball and I managed not to yell "THAT TOY IS NOT A TOY!"... because I'm an adult. Also in my adolescent years I broke 5 of my Dad's favourite mugs... I don't deserve nice things anyway.
That is all.
So this week everything went off the rails... my room is a disaster, my backpack is a disaster, the counter is a disaster, the floor is a disaster, my notes are a disaster, and my desktop is a disaster.
 |
| This is just what you can see from the door way but it's pretty much a minefield. |
 |
| What you can't see is the pound of crumbs that cushions all my books with greasy tenderness |
 |
| Please note to 2 dozen minimized windows. |
Basically I'm like a slug except I leave disaster in my wake instead of slime (although I've been sick all week so that's not untrue either). Now, I know what you're thinking: Mack, how can you live like this? Well, sometimes I walk around with my eyes closed so I don't have to deal with egregious nature of my mess making. I know it's weird but sometimes I find messes comforting, it's like an extension of my internal stress. So I take a look at the mess and think Yep, that's how I feel... finally a cluster of inanimate objects get me.
Despite the whole "wallowing in my own filth" thing, I've managed a number of personal victories this week. DUN DUN <-- this is the law and order sound in case you were wondering.
I finished two compositions TWO WHOLE DAYS before they were due... granted one of them was a narrative about a cigarette smoking duck who had been given the voice of Jean Reno so not exactly academic stuff but the other one so was academic that even the footnotes were pretentious.
As of today it is the start of toquesmas... if you don't know I wear the same toque 4-7 times a week from octoberish until sometime in the middle of May and I have decided that today is the perfect day to start up the toque festivities (it's rainy, it's cold, I desperately need to wash my hair). Grab your toques kids, we're going to celebrate!
 |
| The aforementioned toque. Photo cred: Mom Stealth level: clumsy ninja |
That is all.
Comments
Post a Comment