The best thing about morning is its supreme sleep-through-ability.
We here at CBRAT are taking some much-desired if not needed time offa the day job (16 hours to be exact) this week, which so far has been spent mostly sleeping and drinking coffee (not at the same time -- yet). And by "we" I mean "me." Or, "I," depending on the grammar rules in your jurisdiction. (And by "are" I mean "am," etc. Do your own copyediting. Or copy editing. Or copy-editing. I can't even remember which one of those is right ... which goes to show how rusty I've gotten at that ... but I digress.)
I'm feeling a little remorseful about being so slothy, cuz I have some things I really need to get done. Well, they won't kill me if I fail to do them ... except for one or two that might. Such as, I was gonna bring my car in first thing this morning to have the brakes fixed, cuz they don't seem to be working right, but I got too lazy, so I'll have to do that tomorrow.
When I plan a day off, I make all sortsa "job jar" type plans for myself, as if I am a stereotypical comic strip housewife (e.g., Lois from "Hi and Lois") treating my own self as a stereotypical comic strip husband (as in, "You'll be around? Oh good, you can do blah, blah, blah, and blah around the house, and then you can go and buy blah, and fix blah, and blah. Then catch up on laundry. And vacuum the damn floors," etc.), but when the day off happens, the do-nothing urge takes over. And since there is no actual stereotypical comic strip housewife around here, with a stereotypical comic strip rolling pin or other pop-cultural implement of negative reinforcement, Mr. Screw It Why Bother wins about 17 out of 18 times over Mrs. Imaginary Get Up And Justify Your Miserable Existence.
Later tonight, when the imaginary "Lockhorns" self-interactional dual-auto-role-playing begins, followed by a drunken and harrowing solo interpretation of "Andy Capp" ... well, it won't be pretty, I'm sure.
I want more coffee.
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