Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Why I'm Late

I generally like to think I'm on time to shit, but I also have many perceptions of myself that just aren't true. The reasons I'm late aren't cause I overslept or was getting my hair/makeup did, since I am really unskilled at both of those things, but they're for obscure reasons that always seem to feel like there is no other possible time I can do them except right at that moment. Here's how I spend my time until I say  to myself what he fuck are you doing? Quit dicking around and get to the office/bar/cockfight.

Putting things in jars. I kept Shannie waiting for me the other day because I really, really needed to get the 18 million q-tips I bought at the dollar store out of their package and into a jar. She was a miffed when I gave her the explanation for my tardiness. I have done this with jars of flour and past as well. Also, it pays to spring for brand name q-tips, as I learned when one broke in my ear.

Taking pictures of my fridge. Check out this other one I took this morning, to try and remember when this food is from. I used that honey on some toast, then didn't feel like dealing with the wooden spoony thing so put it in the fridge for safekeeping til after work. That was two months ago. Those pickles are from November, as I thought about bringing them to Thanksgiving dinner, but then thought I might get called a weirdo (Burnt my nose trying to smoke pot out of an apple instead. Just like the pilgrims).  That plastic wrapped bowl is oatmeal Bennie brought me six months ago, now covered with a fine mold. The other container is a straight mystery. Pina colada in the back is about to turn two years old and I think for its birthday I will open it and get drunk because that shit must be fermented by now.



Organizing firework arsenal. Don't you judge me.

Looking for glass in my feet. My feet are like magnets for broken glass. And I am really clumsy so there's usually some hanging out on my floor most of the time. Right now I'm pretty sure there's some in the lefty, as I am walking with a limp.

Looking for stupid shit. I always know where my keys and phone and wallet are, but things that I absolutely needed to find before leaving have included: Yo MTV Raps collectors cards, aerobie frisbee, middle school yearbooks, fart bags, eye patch,  fortune telling fish, James Bond theme songs CD, to name a few. What's weird is I usually don't need these things for wherever I'm going, I just like to know they're safe.

Egg & cheese sandwiches. I go back and forth between saying fuckit, I'm already late so waiting a few more minutes for a sammie won't matter, or looking like a total asshole for trying to blame my lateness on the trains and getting the "clearly you had time to stop for an egg & cheese" stink eye. It's extra tricksy when I have the hangovers, since I am probably running late already but will physically not be able to operate without that sammich. Rock and a hard place.

1 comment:

  1. This is so unexpected, I, uh, I didn't even have a speech prepared. Uh, but I would like to say this: Tardiness is not something you can do all on your own. Many, many people contributed to my tardiness. Uh, I'd like to thank my parents for never giving me a ride to school, the L.A. city bus driver for taking a chance on an unknown kid, and, uh, last but not least, the wonderful crew at McDonalds for spending hours making those egg McMuffins, without which I might never be tardy.

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