Wednesday January 21, 2009

I woke up a half hour before my alarm went off this morning, so I reset it for 10:00 instead of having it go off at 9:00. In that sentence, I was able to paint a vivid picture of just how exciting my life can sometimes be. That little event with my alarm is sadly one of the most intricate events of my day. So intricate, in fact, that it warrants documentation value.

I finally wake up at my usual ten after ten, throw on my glasses and hit up the computer to check e-mail and update the diary. Chet comes strolling in and hops right on my lap to make his presence known and to assure that I pay attention to him. He’s such an attention whore. I do my computer shit, throw on my Pandora self-made radio station (Tyler made one especially for me entitled “Mid Life Crisis Radio,” because he’s such a prick), and hit the shower. I dry off, do a quick shave, clean the teeth that will be stained with coffee and tobacco in no less than 10 minutes, and then it’s off to work.

Late again to work. It’s routine now, no one says anything. I grab my routine mug of free coffee and bomb around making it seem like I’m working. We hired a Scottish guy who is in the U.S. visiting for a few years, so I shoot the shit with him for the first hour or so of my six-hour shift. The guy is a fuckin’ riot, sharing stories about all of the little things that us as Americans take for granted that he finds just absolutely fascinating. He rocks out of there around noon, and about ten minutes later, V stops by to pay me visit. I feel popular and this makes me giddy.
V and I shoot the shit for about a half hour and grab a smoke. I toss him a free drink (fuck Caribou), and he nabs my house keys from me so he can stop there and borrow my USB cord for my Zune and my Wayne’s World DVD’s. After he leaves, me and my coworker, Jill, try and find new ways to work as little as humanly possible. I rock a steak burrito from Chipotle around 2:00, my fourth day in a row this week, and bust out my laptop once Ryan leaves to check my e-mail and update my Netflix list.

5:00 PM hits and it concludes yet another day that the Bou has payed me to do even less than I do at home. Do I complain? I’ll be god damned if I do. I count down my drawer, pack my shit up, take a piss, refill my water, and clock out. I pimp out the door and it’s into my car where I grab a smoke and start the all too routine half hour journey home in rush hour traffic. I’m feeling loud and pretty damn good today, so needless to say, it’s time for metal. I rock out to some All That Remains on my Zune and gun it home. Surprisingly, I make it home in less than fifteen minutes. A new record. Then I think to myself how I really need to find something other than a quicker-than-usual drive in rush hour traffic that is worthy of such excitement. I feel giddy and pathetic at the same time.

Tool pulls into the condo parking lot right in front of me and flags me over to his car so we can transport my drums that were left in his car from my last show over to my car. We freeze our nuts off as we make the switch and make a full sprint inside the house where V and Litwicki are already waiting for us at the table, baked as usual.

I cruise in my room, set my laptop up back in the office, take another leak (too much coffee and water throughout the day), change the light bulb on my desk, and change into my bumming clothes. Now I’m ready to take the night on.

I warm up some leftover barbequed ribs that V brought back for me from wherever he went to lunch that afternoon. This, too, makes me more excited than it rightfully should due mainly to the fact that I now don’t have to cook anything for dinner. I once again feel that giddy mixed with pathetic emotion. I’ve gotten used to the feeling and kind of welcome it with open arms nowadays. I plant my ass in front of the T.V. and crack a beer and watch some episodes of That 70’s Show. It feels good. It feels damn good.

I migrate back to my room after my feast and sit in the office with V to where we proceed to download a shit load of music to put on our Zunes. After about an hour of hitting up every possible album we can imagine, Stin drops by with that all-to-familiar thirty case of High Life and the usual agenda: become inebriated. We both enjoy a warm-up brew while rocking out to some tunes in my room and prepare ourselves for the hour of power that was about to commence in no less than twenty minutes.

Power hour begins and Hart throws on some more episodes of 30 Rock. Of course, no one joins me and Stin in our festivities, so we look like a couple of lushes on the couch. About a half hour in, we rock a smoke and prepare ourselves for the second half. By this time, I’m already half in the bag.

Mary joins us after she gets off work with only fifteen minutes left in the power hour (she always conveniently shows up after me and Stin are too intoxicated to give her shit for not joining in… smart girl). We finish our last shot of beer around 11:00 PM and at this point, me and Stin are just a hair shy of being completely shit-faced. Stin and Mary cruise not too long after because Mary is feeling sick. Everyone else follows shortly after.

Tool crashes and I decide, in my drunken state, to attempt to fix my broken DVD player. Needless to say, I didn’t get too far before I realized that in order to successfully repair a highly technical piece of electronic equipment, it would probably be in my best interest to be able to clearly see what was in front of me.

I threw the busted down DVD player in the closet and found my old player to use for the time being (it doesn’t work as well, but it’s all I got). I brush my teeth and peruse my DVD collection for a movie to pass out to. I settle on Batman Begins. I toss the movie in and am out cold within the first ten minutes.