I was afraid that some telemarketer was going to call and wake me up early; I fell asleep around a quarter to 5 and hoped to revisit The Good Ol' Days of being able to sleep till noon, or even 2:30. I woke up, naturally, just before 1 -- just in time to hear Common Man's "5-3-4" on KFXN. Perfect timing, and I was totally refreshed when I got up.
Could have worked on my health insurance application, but I decided it can wait. Could have worked on the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue review -- which, I know, I know, should have come out at least three months ago -- but shit, if I'm already this late now, what's another day? My parents called home today; they said to water the vegetable plants outside; I did so the past couple days, so I think I could skip today, right?
What I did was listen to the Common Man till the end, where I kind of conked off until I heard his show ending. That woke me up, which sucked because I otherwise could've slept for another few hours. What I did next was one of the few chores I chose to do, continuing to wash the laundry. Because my folks are away, I feel I have the room to do what I really want to do with my dirty clothes, namely follow the directions on how to wash and dry each piece of clothing to a T.
When I came back home from dropping my folks off at the airport Sunday I started this task. That meant separating them into whites and colors, then by temperature of wash and temperature of dry. I laid out all my dirty clothes in the room between the dining and living rooms. I imagined a chart of the temperatures of both cycles, hot-medium-cold wash up top, medium-low dry down the left-hand side, and I drop all the clothes (whites and clothes) into its particular square. I then took each square, re-separated between whites and colors, and took them down to the laundry room to wash. Oh, and if it said "gentle cycle" on the tag, that was a separate cycle for them, too. I think I've used the washer at least eight times, and I'm not done yet. For one cycle I had one t-shirt in there, one. Yes, it's a massive waste of energy and water. Please don't tell my parents.
It would have helped, by the way, if I included all my dirty clothes. But today I realized that there were a couple t-shirts I forgot to put into my laundry matrix. Forgive me, but I'm going to wash the black shirt cold wash, low dry, even though the clothes for that particular mix I did last night.
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I put it in another good nap around the dinnertime hour, between 6:30 to 8. Unfortunately this rejuvenating sleep came through a nightmare. For some reason I dreamt I was a judge on So You Think You Can Dance, a show I have to reacquaint myself with because the past two Tuesdays I've watched the NBA Finals instead. We were in this hotel, and I was holding everyone up from selecting who amongst the contestant dancers we were either going to choose or eliminate (which I forget). Don't quite remember the reason, but from how I was feeling in my nightmare, I was afraid I was too slow in doing something -- making up my mind, physically going up to the hotel to make the decision, something -- and people were waiting for me.
This has nothing to do with the fact that I didn't get selected for the test scoring job because I was slow, was it? Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
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When I woke up it was 1-all late in the first period of the Stanley Cup Finals game. Decided to try and knock out more of the seafood leftovers. We brought home no meat; it is just rice, vegetables, oysters, tofu and fish. It looks like I can get this done in three meals, the first of which was yesterday, when I decided to tackle the fish head my sister-in-law included, just to make sure there was something I could eat up in there. I did, maybe a couple bits of insides.
The trouble with eating fish, of course, is the bones. It's the fucking reason for My Fucking Father melting down at me, but I should be the one pissed off, because I have to keep removing those goddamn things both out of my plate and out of my mouth. I can't just chow through my meal, I have to pick at it with chopsticks to make sure I don't accidentally swallow a bone that will slice through my esophagus and kill me. Now I remember why I hated to eat fish when I was young.
Oh, and I could use a fucking burger right about now.
Oh, what a game by the way, wasn't it? I grew up a North Stars fan, so I am kind of rooting for the Bruins against the Blackhawks, but really I want to see close games and a long series.
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I am finishing this just as I see dawn breaking over the neighbor's massive trees to the northeast. I don't want to go to bed just as the sun is streaming through my sister's bedroom (since my parents are gone I have slipped back into my sister's room, which I like more), but it's probably inevitable since I slept about nine hours in the past 24. Besides, there is a certain kind of freedom being able to type this in the dining room, satellite radio blasting, only wearing my underwear, all my shit strewn all over the dining room table, not really needing to do anything through the afternoon. I could live like this forever.
Some people, particularly My Father, would say that I wasted a whole day. Some others would say that opportunities were wasted. Not so. Disappointments were avoided. Problems were pushed outside and back another day. Judgments by others were not rendered because I stayed inside. Best of all, safety, security and a certain, nebulous level of peace were attained and enjoyed. This was a day where nothing was accomplished. And that is excellent, because I experienced nothing bad.
Oh and I also just realized that I did not jerk off once today! ETA: Never mind this. Suddenly felt horny, so I'm going to Vintage Erotica Forums (which probably will from now on be known on Wailing And Failing as just VEF) to jerk off and then call it a day/night. First time I've been on VEF in eight days, four hours and 19 minutes.
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