The
thing about milk crates – besides their unparalleled usefulness as
footrests or for carrying various cargo including milk – is that
they are shaped in such a way that while being very easy to grip,
also makes them uncomfortable. The ridges that make them so
convenient to grip onto also serve to dig deep into the skin, and the
same goes for when they are being used as a footrest. As such, when I
think that I'm going to be resting my feet for any sort of long
period on the milk crate that lives under my desk in my room – for
example, if I plan on writing a lengthy piece for this blog – I am
always sure to put socks on, to stop the thing from growing painful
on the soles of my feet. This fact, along with the current time
(11:33am, Monday morning) should reasonably account for my current
state of dress, being as I am completely naked sitting at my desk,
save for a pair of comfy, white socks.
I have been dressed today before now... I had work at six at Meatballs, so I got up at five thirty or so and got dressed and got on the tram and went down there, because you're not allowed on the tram without a shirt on. Most of the other early morning types were out, the ones I recognize from my three or four trips before sunrise every week. High-Vis Vest, Fat Man, no crazies because those people at least afford themselves the luxury of sleeping in on weekdays, and me with my clothes on, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.
After work though it was straight back home to comfy bed again, and since I haven't had a shower yet, I divested myself of my slightly-dirty work clothes before lying down for my nap. Nothing exciting has happened to me yet today, and it's midday already. Nothing exciting happened to me yesterday either – the day was spent downstairs in the pub with the local crew drinking beer and playing pool all afternoon. That in itself is fairly exciting though, not as an event, but as a prospect – being able to throw away an entire day and consign it to nothing is the most exciting thing in the world most days, and I did it yesterday, although admittedly that time I did still have to put on pants.
I have deleted SO MUCH of this post, paragraphs that you people will never get to read, because I have deemed them, in the shortest minutes, completely unreadable and worthless, and so purged them from existence. You might even say I hate them. I do, and you very well might say that.
I can't help it, you know. Other than being naked, there's nothing else today that's really captured my imagination, which is sad, because it's not Monday's fault, as much as everyone usually seems so eager to cast blame on this poor loser of the week. Hate Mondays? No, you're just bored with your life I think... Mondays are great when taken advantage of. Today is not one of those Mondays for me though, or it hasn't been so far, anyway. Right now I am going to put on my gym gear and get on the tram to Fitzroy to make an attempt at salvaging something from this grey situation. Tonight I have a set at Alan and Sofie's room in Collingwood, and then after that I'm doing a glassy shift at the Workers. So there are a few points of interest on the horizon. Nothing to jump up and down about though, so I won't be doing that.
Another reason I won't be jumping up and down is that it's not a good idea to do that when you're naked, how's that for a mental image? Grim? Unnecessary? I'm not surprised, but that's what I'm going to leave you with.
Peace, Taco.
I have been dressed today before now... I had work at six at Meatballs, so I got up at five thirty or so and got dressed and got on the tram and went down there, because you're not allowed on the tram without a shirt on. Most of the other early morning types were out, the ones I recognize from my three or four trips before sunrise every week. High-Vis Vest, Fat Man, no crazies because those people at least afford themselves the luxury of sleeping in on weekdays, and me with my clothes on, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.
After work though it was straight back home to comfy bed again, and since I haven't had a shower yet, I divested myself of my slightly-dirty work clothes before lying down for my nap. Nothing exciting has happened to me yet today, and it's midday already. Nothing exciting happened to me yesterday either – the day was spent downstairs in the pub with the local crew drinking beer and playing pool all afternoon. That in itself is fairly exciting though, not as an event, but as a prospect – being able to throw away an entire day and consign it to nothing is the most exciting thing in the world most days, and I did it yesterday, although admittedly that time I did still have to put on pants.
I have deleted SO MUCH of this post, paragraphs that you people will never get to read, because I have deemed them, in the shortest minutes, completely unreadable and worthless, and so purged them from existence. You might even say I hate them. I do, and you very well might say that.
I can't help it, you know. Other than being naked, there's nothing else today that's really captured my imagination, which is sad, because it's not Monday's fault, as much as everyone usually seems so eager to cast blame on this poor loser of the week. Hate Mondays? No, you're just bored with your life I think... Mondays are great when taken advantage of. Today is not one of those Mondays for me though, or it hasn't been so far, anyway. Right now I am going to put on my gym gear and get on the tram to Fitzroy to make an attempt at salvaging something from this grey situation. Tonight I have a set at Alan and Sofie's room in Collingwood, and then after that I'm doing a glassy shift at the Workers. So there are a few points of interest on the horizon. Nothing to jump up and down about though, so I won't be doing that.
Another reason I won't be jumping up and down is that it's not a good idea to do that when you're naked, how's that for a mental image? Grim? Unnecessary? I'm not surprised, but that's what I'm going to leave you with.
Peace, Taco.
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