Do Nothing Day

This was a pretty wasted day, everybody.

This was the kind of day that never really started. It was like that interval between getting up and brushing your teeth, which normally only lasts like five minutes on a normal day, lasted about eight hours today. It never really got started.

This day is like having a conversation with someone and you never get past the how-are you's.
"Hi."
"Hey."
"How's it going?"
"Pretty good. And you?"
"Oh, it's fine. You doing alright?"
"Yeah, pretty much. You hanging in there?"
"Hanging in there. How about you?"
"Same old, same old. You know how it is."
"Yeah, that is how it is."
"That's how it's going."
"Yup, that's how it is going. How's it going for you?"
"Pretty good. And you?"
"Oh, I'm getting by."
"Keep on, keeping on."

That's it. You're never engaging the day. The day is just staring at you and you're looking right back at it like, "I see you, day. I see you from here. Now I'm gonna pass out on the couch and wake up sweating...

Oh, you're still here."

This day is like being eaten alive by a shark but he never gets past the wrist of your hand. You're horrified at first but then it's just...c'mon! Kill me already, I have places to be. I have people that need to mourn the loss of me! One hand isn't gonna cut it! They're just gonna give me a hook and a spot on the local news as I work my new job at the bowling alley.

This day is like someone who is about to say the word, "niggardly" and for whatever reason you know niggardly is the word they're about to say but they never get past the 'ni-'. You're just waiting for the sweet release

niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

but it's never gonna get there. Look at all those i's. You could already have the story all planned out in your head but you can't tell it until this jerk finishes up saying his word.

It's like, "Yeah, I wanna tell you about how I heard a guy say the word "niggardly" but I can't because he won't get past the first FREAKIN' syllable!

This day is like a big, ugly, furry, old, wrinkled, smelly, hairy, voluminous, saggy, furry, musky, crusty...ffffffusty, sack of...french fries. And you're walking your dog and it latches onto the bag and it just keeps smelling and humping and humping and smelling and humping and humping and smelling and you can't stop it even if you wanted to. You try setting the bag on fire but it won't burn. It just quickly secretes a flame-retardant foam that excites the dog even more.

This day is like trying to pull down your pants to drop a deuce but they just keep coming down. You just keep pulling them down and they keep going. You can't find your ankles. You can't even find the bottom of your butt.

16 hours of pulling down your pants and then you fall asleep on the toilet so you can wake up and try again for another 16 hours.

I will tell you one thing: when I finally get those pants off. They are staying off.