I've been mostly dead all day.

I'm so glad Bea posted. I was afraid she was never going to post, and we might have to have a confrontation about it. Bea and I having an confrontation is like watching a blind, three legged dog chase cars. We have no business doing it, and its both pathetically feeble, and hilarious to watch.

Bea was right. I did take my own advice last night, and contrary to my normal M.O. partook in the New Year's Festivities with the Management. And by that I mean, there was a lot whiskey.  When midnight struck I was outside, wrapped in my Snuggie brushing snow off a car.  This was pretty much the ideal way to ring in the new year in my opinion. (As a side story: I fell down on the stairs into the bushes. Now from this, you might assume I was falling down drunk. I am not sure if that's the case, because as point of fact, I am just really clumsy. I am not sure how I should tell the story later, as I can never tell what I should be more embarrassed about, that I drank so much that I lose my balance, or that, in all sobriety, I simply fall down a lot.)

Consequently, I spent the majority of today in bed, alternating between sleeping and watching old episodes of King of the Hill. This is not much different than how I was planning to spend my day anyway, with the exception of getting my laundry done. And let's be honest about this, there was only  30-60 chance I was actually going to get that done.  The more I explore the option, alcoholism doesn't seem like it would disrupt my life style all that much.

The worst question I ever get asked is "So what you'd do today?" If I were answer that question honestly and frankly it would be something along the lines of "I watched 7 episodes of One Tree Hill, because I'm curious as to how much bullshit TV I can handle before my brain explodes, while Bea and I texted 93 times.* Oh, and I ate a bunch of cheese."  Since I can't really say that to people without having to answer some heavy questions about my fundamental word view, I usually just say "Oh, nothing too exciting". A lot of my conversations are spent trying to frame my life in a way that seems like its interesting enough where people don't become overly concerned about my anti-social tendencies but aren't interested enough to have any sort of follow up questions. It's really hard to appear to be an open book, and simultaneously be pathologically secretive about how you actually conduct your affairs.

Bea might have to overcome her own disinterest in her life to be able to blog, but I am having trouble overcoming my own self conditioned behavior, which makes me panic at the thought of confessing all the weird as shit I do. I mean, I live alone for a reason here. There's something oddly titillating about all this honesty.

So, even though it's midnight, I am going to wall paper my entry way with the trashy romance novel style post cards and eat some cheese before I go to bed.












*This is a real statistic.