I won’t lie to you; I would normally be at work right now. But I took today off. Mind you, I didn’t call out “sick.” I don’t abide that kind of un-American behavior. No, I put in for this day over a month ago, well within my company’s vacation guidelines.
I was going to do a lot today. You know, run those millions of little bullshit errands that just can’t be done on a weekend. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, I took the biggest shit of my life not five minutes after waking up. It was majestic, an epic act of personal cleansing and renewal unlike anything I’d experienced before. In fact, a number of feces-centric cultures are already creating songs, paintings and other works of art in my bowel movement’s honor. It was that good.
That said, the whole ordeal left me with such a sense of accomplishment that I can’t be bothered to do anything else today. If you need me, I’ll be taking in a marathon Playboy TV session from the comfort of my vibrating chair. Ta-ta.