You can tell how much of a funk I am in by the amount of neck-beard I have. Like right now, I have a little bit of neck-beard, so I can still function in society but it isn’t to the full extent of what is possible. Because of this, I’ve been cooped up in the house except for going to work.
I’ve been thinking thoughts.
Thoughts about scooping the cat litter and how I need to do it but I will just do it later. Thoughts about going to go get milk but I’m too lazy to do it and I really shouldn’t be drinking milk anyway because it does disgraceful things to my digestive system. Thoughts about taking out the trash but it stinks and I can’t smell it unless I open the trash closet which I will inevitably have to do if I take out the trash—also it’s raining and I don’t want to put on socks so I can put on shoes only to have them get wet because I always step in puddles because I’m an idiot. (I live a complicated life, you see.) Thoughts about how I refuse to blog about what I had for lunch because that is what twitter is for so I end up not blogging because all I do is eat and meander about the apartment much like my dog.
You have a lot of time to think about life when you’re living by yourself with only a cat and a dog to keep you company on a regular basis. I would start talking to the cat, but she always seems disinterested with what I have to say. I can’t talk to the dog because she is always super excited about everything I have to say and she just doesn’t seem genuine. I’d start talking to myself but that shit is just crazy. (Also, I’m kind of an asshole and I’m not so sure that I’d like what I have to say.)
Excuse me while I go wallow in my waning self respect and a bowl of macaroni & cheese.