It hurts so bad

It’s funny how one little thing can affect your life. I burnt my finger making chicken nuggets this evening, and although within a few days it will be healed, hell, I’ll likely forget it ever happened, right now I am in more than moderate pain, and am impaired when it comes to perform any actions that require right thumbs.

Sweet monkeypiss, this sucks.

Another Monday

I pour the terrible coffee my office provides me into my oversized mug and I smile, for I have spotted a bag of bagels left over from last Friday’s festivities. Today being Monday, that dates them as three days stale. In other words, they are perfect for my needs. My needs are neither complicated nor cultivated.

I take a sip of my coffee. I do not spit it out, despite the fact that it tastes like urn cleaner has been left in the pot. Since the coffee pots have never been cleaned, this is clearly not the case. In fact, it tastes like every other cup of coffee I have been steadily intaking since I took this job, two long years ago. I spend roughly 28 percent of my time at this job. A sickening statistic and a sickening amount of bad coffee.

As I saunter back to my desk, I chew on a bagel, spilling poppy seeds everywhere. I chip no teeth in the process, making this bagel a rousing success. I take another bite, eager to absorb the urn cleaner taste.

I drink more coffee, which is well and truly foul, for such is my stupid custom, and sit down at my desk. My iPod randomly decides to entertain me with Ben Folds, formerly of Ben Folds Five, playing a Ray Charles cover. It works. I am entertained.

My “next door neighbor,” that is to say, the woman assigned to the desk next to mine, has, as of today, left my company to work on a temporary project for the next month or so. This, I must say, comes as a bit of a relief, for she was, perhaps, the single most awful person I’ve ever been acquainted with.

This departure relieves a steady pressure that had been building on my soul for the past month. For this reason, it is with relative good cheer that I agree to help a co-worker steal and install a shelf for her desk. I am promised a case of kiwifruit as compensation for my trouble.

And so it goes.

Stark hedonism

My roommate has left for a three week European vacation. While I’ll certainly miss his company, having the house to my self does present a degree of freedom that the presence of a roommate intrinsically denies. It feels quite good to be able to confidently proclaim that for the next three weeks, every day is Pants Optional Day at Casa De Isaac.

Things I can do while Troy is gone:
Play Metal Gear Solid 2 WHILE WEARING NO PANTS!
Build elaborate set pieces out of Legos, PARTIALLY NAKED!
Read comic books IN MY UNDERPANTS!
Write and revise various writing projects and goof offs, TOTALLY NOT FULLY DRESSED!
Let the sink pile up with dishes.

As you can see, I plan on making the most of my big empty house. Any suggestions on how else to spend my time?

Originally published at The Triangle. You can comment here or there.

Stark hedonism

It appears that Troy, my roommate, has up and left for a three week European vacation. While, in the days to follow, I’ll certainly miss his company, having the house to my self does present a degree of freedom that the presence of a roommate intrinsically denies. It feels quite good to be able to confidently proclaim that for the next three weeks, every day is Pants Optional Day at Casa De Isaac.

Things I can do while Troy is gone:
Play Metal Gear Solid 2 WHILE WEARING NO PANTS!
Build elaborate set pieces out of Legos, PARTIALLY NAKED!
Read comic books IN MY UNDERPANTS!
Write and revise various writing projects and goof offs, TOTALLY NOT FULLY DRESSED!
Let the sink pile up with dishes.

As you can see, I plan on making the most of my big empty house. Any suggestions on how else to spend my time?

Honky Tonk

My favorite song for the past few years has been Honky Tonk Union by Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. It’s a piece of Americana, in the tradition of John Cougar Mellencamp, about as dopey-earnest a song as you’re going to find, and it is wonderful.

While the lyrics contain rodeo clowns, and bad ends in Mexico, and cute wordplay, it is really just a simple little love song, but unlike most all of the other thousands of love songs, this song sounds exactly what being in love feels like. It feels like cool evenings in fall, and the sweat on beer bottles, and not caring that you’re poor because you’re happy.

Is that what love feels like to y’all?