Got my humble stove souped up after an epic wait of nearly two months. It ain’t been easy, I can tell you that: from frowning waitresses to losing my temper over delayed orders and staging a walk out; from washing, once a week, the plates on which I eat bread, margarine and marmalade – no tea or coffee but a water by my side, how sad! – to a heavy rotation of eateries; from wishing-during the first weeks of its absence- for it to come back home safe only soon to dread the day they finally tell me that it is ready and I can take it home; to writing unintelligible sentences with ungodly punctuation…
I slugged it out through it all and now, I would like to take this opportunity to say – fuck what everyone else says! Fossil fuels go hard!!
I hope my yellow buddy brings along with it better mornings because my mornings are depressing. I wake up in the morning and immediately embark upon reflections of my life as an exercise in futility. At that moment nothing, not even my “happiest” moments, seem to be worth anything. I am in the shower, and bless it, an inspiration, a life purpose, starts to take form in the deepest recesses of my head. What is this inspiration?
A towel, a towel! All my kingdom for a towel!
My day starts to take shape from there on out until it reaches a crescendo-sleep sweet sleep!
One should start to suspect that one’s life is sucky when one’s goal in life is cellulose. Maybe this is about those people who look at me up and down and then up, see what I am wearing, and think (I can hear you! :mad:) that I am unfit to be a teacher. Yes I agree with you – I am unfit; but for a different reason.