Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Resurrection
Okay, so I don’t have any stigmata or anything to show for it, but my work has finally slowed down and I consider myself to be back among the living. Today, for instance, I actually took a lunch break for the first time in weeks, instead of cramming the mangled sandwich from my desk drawer into my mouth with one hand while attempting to type out a memo on jurisdiction with the other. Tonight I plan to see if, in fact, the rumors are true, and there are people in this world besides my co-workers, the night janitor, and my roommate. I’m being reintegrated into society, slowly and painfully, and while I can’t promise that I won’t freak out at all the flashing lights and modern technologies and bite somebody, I can honestly state that I do not have rabies, although scabies is a closer call.
So what is new in my life? Not a whole lot, frankly. There’s a white supremacist on trial in my office building right now, for allegedly attempting to have a federal judge murdered. That’s kind of fun. There are reporters and cameramen in the lobby each day, and I like to imagine they’re there for me. Today I punched one of them out. We also play this fun game called “Guess Who’s A White Supremacist” with all the people gathered to get into the trial. It’s pretty complicated, but I’ll bottomline it for you: don’t shave your head or grow a beard if you don’t want people (well, me) to think you’re a white supremacist. Or frown a lot.
And that’s that. The fact of the matter is, I’m probably worth a lot more to society when I’m weighed down with hours of work, but I’m a lot happier when my time is my own to blow on drinking and Lizzie McGuire reruns (not, generally, at the same time). Bad choices are still choices, and I want my life to be full of them.
Okay, so I don’t have any stigmata or anything to show for it, but my work has finally slowed down and I consider myself to be back among the living. Today, for instance, I actually took a lunch break for the first time in weeks, instead of cramming the mangled sandwich from my desk drawer into my mouth with one hand while attempting to type out a memo on jurisdiction with the other. Tonight I plan to see if, in fact, the rumors are true, and there are people in this world besides my co-workers, the night janitor, and my roommate. I’m being reintegrated into society, slowly and painfully, and while I can’t promise that I won’t freak out at all the flashing lights and modern technologies and bite somebody, I can honestly state that I do not have rabies, although scabies is a closer call.
So what is new in my life? Not a whole lot, frankly. There’s a white supremacist on trial in my office building right now, for allegedly attempting to have a federal judge murdered. That’s kind of fun. There are reporters and cameramen in the lobby each day, and I like to imagine they’re there for me. Today I punched one of them out. We also play this fun game called “Guess Who’s A White Supremacist” with all the people gathered to get into the trial. It’s pretty complicated, but I’ll bottomline it for you: don’t shave your head or grow a beard if you don’t want people (well, me) to think you’re a white supremacist. Or frown a lot.
And that’s that. The fact of the matter is, I’m probably worth a lot more to society when I’m weighed down with hours of work, but I’m a lot happier when my time is my own to blow on drinking and Lizzie McGuire reruns (not, generally, at the same time). Bad choices are still choices, and I want my life to be full of them.
