Post by TavKat on Jan 2, 2007 20:14:30 GMT -5
Holy nuts he thought as he awoke to the sun streaming through the window and the sound of birds chirrping from the sill. Any other day one might think it was a perfect beginning to a perfect day but to Andrew it meant something totaly different. It was Tuesday, a work day and the sunshine filtering across his face could only mean one thing. HE WAS LATE!
Half droggy and with an inclination to say f**k it and go back to sleep, he began to devise ways he could save time and punch in at work without be awarded demerit points for tardiness. Rubbing his hand across his face to determine if he could skip shaving this morning he realize that his whiskers must have grown a 1/4" overnight. No denying the fact that skipping a shave was not an option. He had an important meeting at work and showing up looking like a werewolf from a "B" class horror movie wouldn't help his chances of securing that Million Dollar contract.
Begrudginly he dragged his butt out of the sack and headed in the general direction of the bathroom. Halfway down the hall he felt a sudden excrutiating pain in his left pinkie toe. Realizing that his turn to enter the bathroom was short and he stubbed his toe on the door casement; he let out a string of explitives which could only be rivaled by the Seven Words you can never say on TV by George Carlin.
After applying a bandage to the underside of chin, the results of using a dull razor, Andrew walked into the kitchen. Glancing over towards his trash container he suddely realized it was pickup day and he did not have enough forsight to place the trash at the curb the night before. Just like last week! He could not skip it for a second week in a row or his nosey neighbor may very well call the health department on him and have his house condemed as unsuitable for occupancy. Beside, the beer bottles from the party the night before were all gathered on his countertop preventing his ability to pull out his coffeemaker which he was desperatley wishing he had a cup of right now.
It was the 2nd Tuesday of the month. "Recycling day" he muttered starring at the 2ft high stack of newspapers collecting in the corner of his living room thinking for a moment that he might take them out to the curb and place them in the recycle bin.
(by historymike) "f**k it," he said, throwing the encapsulated newspapers directly into the trash can.
(by Calico Jack) He was tired of recycling, tired of being politically correct, tired of being responsible, and he was damn sure sick and tired of his mother-in-law's constant criticism, ostensibly disguised as help. Ex-mother-in-law, he reminded himself, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. He had resolved not to think about the past, but the images flashed through his mind like a strobe light. Marriage, children, accident, divorce, death, lawyers and guilt played through his mind like a macabre merry-go-round revolving in time to the cacophony of a calliope with an insane clown at the keyboard.
"Dammit! I am late and the boss is going to be Pissed Off bigtime" he told himself as he stumbled outside with garbage bags in hand. What happen to the sunshine he awoke to. It was now raining.....
Half droggy and with an inclination to say f**k it and go back to sleep, he began to devise ways he could save time and punch in at work without be awarded demerit points for tardiness. Rubbing his hand across his face to determine if he could skip shaving this morning he realize that his whiskers must have grown a 1/4" overnight. No denying the fact that skipping a shave was not an option. He had an important meeting at work and showing up looking like a werewolf from a "B" class horror movie wouldn't help his chances of securing that Million Dollar contract.
Begrudginly he dragged his butt out of the sack and headed in the general direction of the bathroom. Halfway down the hall he felt a sudden excrutiating pain in his left pinkie toe. Realizing that his turn to enter the bathroom was short and he stubbed his toe on the door casement; he let out a string of explitives which could only be rivaled by the Seven Words you can never say on TV by George Carlin.
After applying a bandage to the underside of chin, the results of using a dull razor, Andrew walked into the kitchen. Glancing over towards his trash container he suddely realized it was pickup day and he did not have enough forsight to place the trash at the curb the night before. Just like last week! He could not skip it for a second week in a row or his nosey neighbor may very well call the health department on him and have his house condemed as unsuitable for occupancy. Beside, the beer bottles from the party the night before were all gathered on his countertop preventing his ability to pull out his coffeemaker which he was desperatley wishing he had a cup of right now.
It was the 2nd Tuesday of the month. "Recycling day" he muttered starring at the 2ft high stack of newspapers collecting in the corner of his living room thinking for a moment that he might take them out to the curb and place them in the recycle bin.
(by historymike) "f**k it," he said, throwing the encapsulated newspapers directly into the trash can.
(by Calico Jack) He was tired of recycling, tired of being politically correct, tired of being responsible, and he was damn sure sick and tired of his mother-in-law's constant criticism, ostensibly disguised as help. Ex-mother-in-law, he reminded himself, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. He had resolved not to think about the past, but the images flashed through his mind like a strobe light. Marriage, children, accident, divorce, death, lawyers and guilt played through his mind like a macabre merry-go-round revolving in time to the cacophony of a calliope with an insane clown at the keyboard.
"Dammit! I am late and the boss is going to be Pissed Off bigtime" he told himself as he stumbled outside with garbage bags in hand. What happen to the sunshine he awoke to. It was now raining.....