I take this damn router home.
I live in a pretty good neigh- borhood, right? Or so I like to think. I live in a pretty good building, right? Or so I've come to believe. I have pretty good security, right? Or so I hope to have. Then why is it, when I get into the elevator with a young person I tense up? It's not because I have run out of LYRICA. I know it's not...well, maybe it could be.
I'm already wired from all of the coffee, and I'm in the elevator with this young kid that came in behind me. Security let him in, although they proofed me. He slips into the elevator before me and stands against the far wall. I take out my key immediately, force it between two fingers of a knuckled fist and stand there, primed. If he reached for anything I was going to plunge the key into his eye. Simple as that. I prayed that he wasn't a practical joker and just flinched and said: Boo! He would have lost an eye.
But no. The elevator stops and he calmly walks out. After the elevator door closes I exhale deeply, deflating like a blown up balloon. The stress of life is slowly getting to me. I was so unprepared for the day. I just didn't want to do anything, and anything that I did seemed formidable. It was an uphill battle today. All uphill this morning.
But the day was over, and I was home with my router. I was like a new groom, with a new bride walking cautiously into the hotel room the night of the wedding. I couldn't wait to tear into the box and pull out all of its goodies. Holy Christmas!
I held the sleek, small, sexy antenna in my hand and smiled. I quickly connected it to my laptop, inserted the installation CD-ROM, and configured the thing. I named it ZAPRANOTH, and took down all of its connection defenses. The router was a transmitter now, ready to broadcast any signal given to it through its Ethernet port. I plugged in into a nearby power outlet, and rested it on the floor in the corner of the room. Then I turned on my laptop and scanned the room. ZAPRANOTH was there, bigger and brighter than a star. It was ready to rule with an iron fist. A big fucking erection, ready to fuck the first thing that got in its way. Top connection speed 54Mbps. Goddamn!
Now for the Internet connection. That would be the next and final step. Shit I was so pleased with myself that I could start smacking myself around the room.
So I made dinner. Zatarains Jambalaya with sausage. This shit is amazing. It comes in like this flavor packet right? And you squeeze it around, so that it fluffs up the rice and moves around the sausage and ham inside of it. Then you stick this shit in the microwave and in one minute you have this piping hot plate of Jambalaya rice and sausage. But it doesn't end there. The dinner is far from over. I've got 4C Iced Tea Mix. That, a glass, water and Ice, and I've got Iced tea to go with my Jambalaya! For desert, a bowl of cereal. Yeah buddy. A perfect bachelors dinner. OR a perfect single person's dinner in fact. A far cry from what I was eating at my parent's home.
But it's sustenance. It keeps me as fat as a pig. How? I don't fucking know. I'm active...or so it feels as if I am. Maybe I'm just not active ENOUGH.
Whatever. I look at my faint reflection in the window and groan. I am far from ever rectifying my frame from the damage that I've inflicted upon it for all this time.
Just what I like. Christmas guilt.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/12/awakening-from-slumber.html
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