It's After Work

I’m listening to a CD and drinking a beer. The sound is no better or worse for being on compact disk, perhaps disc would be higher in fidelity, but the experience of deciding what to listen to and then playing it front to back is somehow psychologically different from my phone with its infinity of endlessly shuffling music.

The oven beeps with 450° of anticipation over a tray full of hotdogs and frozen onion rings. Fahrenheit. After this childlike dinner, I have to clean both the kitchen and my bedroom. This isn’t busy bragging. There is a schedule to keep if I’m getting all my chores finished in time for the lazy weekend of which I dream.

Soon, however, I will weary of the drudgery, give up any hope of finishing tonight’s cleaning, and drink one or possibly two more beers as I scour the internet for life’s meaning. I’ll wish I had bought ice cream as I nod off at the keyboard, Would I Lie to You reruns playing in the background. It’s best I didn’t buy that ice cream.

Of course, if I actually post this here to my blog, that means I’ve managed to finish my entire to-do list for the evening with time to enough spare. Congratulations are in order.