rely a bit too much on alcohol and irony coffee

Damn alcohol and coffee for keeping me up right now, lucid and dreamy, tied to a lamp post with my bed a few feet away (wait, what the hell is it doing in the middle of the road???).

God bless coffee and alcohol for their powers. If only work did not have a stranglehold on my mind, I might have half an essay to develop here. Maybe I could do something with my synapses…ya know, instead of running them through their paces in service of some obtuse letters that won’t survive the apocalypse. I mean, really? Typing up audit letters? This is how I’m using the degree I’ll be paying off until the Tea Party wins a national election and dissolves the United States Gov’t? Eff the degree, actually. My father didn’t spend the limited time he had on this planet to raise a son that would fall in line with the careerism fascists. We all do what we do, that’s the way we get by; but I’m done with Straight A’s supplanting daydreams. 401(k)s, you’re on my shitlist, too. I’m pretty sure people got ahead and made a future before the numbers were tweaked by over/under-educated mid-level managers in Brooks Brothers suits (just because you know a tailor in the Garment District, it don’t make it high end).

I know what gets me out of bed in the morning (actually, that’s kind of a sad joke…I hate getting out of bed) and I think I know a few things that keep me animated until my body starts screaming in protest. Can I sustain myself on these while I determine the locus of my passions (or quite possibly the loci)? Thanks to someone who finally cared, the word “can’t” has begun to descend into obscurity. “I don’t know” might stick around, but I’ll try is now along for the ride.

Time for a song? Eh, why the hell not: The Weakerthans – Aside | buy Amazon | buy iTunes

p.s., Happy 60th Dad