A Day In The Life Of A Middle-Aged Slacker…

 So — at this point in my middle-aged, pre-“Golden Years” life (I just can’t WAIT for those “Golden Years”!), I’m only getting ~5-6 hours of sleep at night, punctuated on most nights by a piss/shite toilet visit ~3-4AM (What’s up with THIS I wanna know?!) — I go back to bed, MAYBE get to sleep w/in an hour, then Peggy gets up ~4:30 as usual, which wakes me up AGAIN, then MAY-be get back to sleep for 60-90 minutes. Yesterday two of the cats took to “discussing their differences” at 4:30AM — Peggy got up to settle things between them, so I just got up too — Fuck It!

Spent the day couch-locked, then at ~3PM I CRASHED big-time and fell asleep for 15-30 minutes (I don’t know how long — I was on the couch on my laptop surfing away; next thing *I* know I’m waking up!), got up, wiped the drool offa my laptop, then decided to “salvage” at least SOME of my day by doing a very strenuous (at least to ME, at my present level of NON-fitness) project that has been on my “Honey Do List” for about 11 months — I got the back seat assembly for my SUV out of its “storage place” (more like ENTOMBMENT) in the 3rd car garage (no small feat, as it was wedged in on one of the storage shelves about 6 feet up, and weighs about 50-60 AWKWARD pounds), carried it over to the back of the SUV, fiddle —fucked around with getting it through the back door and into position, then went through the side door and had to try and hold it in place with one hand while I tried to start the (fucking FINE —THREADED) attachment bolts with my other hand.

I was sweating & panting like a Big Cat doing Hot Yoga — whatever “extra” breaths I had left over were strictly devoted to the many variants of cursing that were available to me that contained the words “Mother Fucker” and/or “Cock Sucker”.

Being the creative fellow that I AM, as I was trying to hold up the 50-60 pound seat pretty much “in the air” with one hand while I tried to line up the FINE THREADED bolts with the other hand, I soon arrived at the even more ideal & proper “Cock Sucking Mother Fucker” exclamation that I firmly believe was INSTRUMENTAL in my getting the first two bolts threaded in — PROGRESS!

The neighbor lady was walking her dog as I was in the throes of doing this “Two Man Job” by myself — she asked me how it was going — I just looked at her with a blank face, as if to say: “Are you REALLY asking me how it’s going? Why don’t you come alittle closer, so I can SHOW you just EXACTLY how it’s going — pay no attention to this large rachet wrench in my hand that COULD be used for something OTHER than installing these bolts…”

Now she ain’t the shiniest diamond ring in the display case, but she DID figger out that there was “nothing to see here — move on” and did so most Riki-Tik.

All the while, I’m fighting the dreaded “Mid-afternoon Fatigue” that, when it DOES show up, is the equivalent of throwing a furniture blanket (no, make that FOUR furniture blankets) over your head/upper body — it’s like you JUST can’t shake ’em off! Brain in a fog, arms & legs encumbered by leaden weights — MUST.GET.IT.DONE!

And I did so finally, thanks in no small part to my “verbal coaxing”, which I FIRMLY believe has the power to rearrange the cosmos if properly executed. Proud of myself, I got back on track to what has become “Job #1” in my life — what I like to call “doing some upholstery work — covering the sofa…”

Peggy got home at 6:30 after another 12 hour day at the Salt Mines. Puff-chested, I pointed out my “travailler du jour” — she looked at the seat, in its place again after 5 years’ storage, and asked: “Yeah great — now what about the seat belts?”



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