I never knew I'd take so much pleasure in being so exorbitantly boring.
Each day is a repeat of the one before and I don't really give a shit. Nine to fiving, showering, hitting send/receive, reading celebrity gossip sites, running errands, cleaning, paying my bills, making myself dinner, listening to the same music on repeat.
It's all about waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and knowing that summer solves everything.
It's all about waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and knowing that summer solves everything.
So let's fall into bed, live the same day over and over, make a buck, carry packed lunches and coffee in a Starbucks mug. Let's have brunch every weekend and a nap in the afternoon and let's spend each evening night in front of the tv, adjusting the coat hanger attenna. There's no tiptoeing left.
It's just the same pictures over and over and over again. Smile, flash, repeat. And I'm waiting. I'm slipping and I've slid, and thenextthingyouknow, I'm a house in the suburbs and subscriptions to gardening magazines.
Make sure we're in the same neighborhood. I'll come over and exchange back issues.
ReplyDeleteI hope things liven up for you.
ReplyDeleteYou do write very well, I think.
Agreed.
ReplyDeleteSome sense of sameness is comforting, a feeling of safety...but then it turns into mundane monotony, where you would run into traffic just for some excitement.
Please don't turn into a house.
ReplyDeleteI recommend catching a roller derby game. You know, just to shake things up. Or something.
ReplyDeletewell done! My routine is one of being unemployed! I aspire to be boring in the way that you are!
ReplyDelete"I'm slipping and I've slid, and thenextthingyouknow, I'm a house in the suburbs and subscriptions to gardening magazines"
ReplyDeleteand a waffle iron for the kids!
be careful in there, J.
great sentence though.