Today Was the Only Day in the Entire History of the World That It Was Ever Going To Be May 12, A.D. 2004... and I Blew It

Today (Wednesday) was not at all as I'd hoped. On my day off, my plan was to loaf about the house and finalize the playlist for the mixtape - "tape" - I've promised to Skeeter; if things went well, I might have even gotten it burned. Not an ambitious plan for an entire day, I admit, but it seemed a good way to pass the time. Instead, Darth Vater woke me up at 6:30; so, I could drive Woody over to Mr. Front End, a local repair shop. We do this so ungodly early because he needs to be at work around 7ish; we drive over separately, drop Woody, and then he drives me back home before heading to another day of wage slavery. I go back to sleep for forty minutes, warm up the Mousemobile, and drive to the shop to give them the keys and his instructions as soon as they open at 8:00. I get back home around 8:20-8:30 and go back to sleep; it would be tempting to stay awake, but last night I fell asleep around 3 o'clock and would have been for shit all day without more ZZZs.

It is nigh impossible for me to wake up after an hour of sleep; so, I crawl out of bed around 10:30. Feeling like somewhat less than a million bucks, I grab a quick shower (just to wake up) and get breakfast, and then set about mowing the lawn before the beginning of the day's threatened rain. Originally, I had planned to mow on Thursday, but I was assured there would be wall-to-wall rain from Wednesday afternoon through at least Saturday. (It's about 1 o'clock on, technically, Thursday morning and there hasn't yet been a single drop of rain.) We had a dry April, but so far May has been soggy. The real problem is that the rain we're getting is in intense burts; so, the ground it having trouble absorbing the sudden multiple influxes of water. Much of the backyard was squishy; I would never have mowed, but it I didn't I wouldn't be able to for a week and by then the grass would be unconquerably long. Mowing took a solid four hours, easily twice as long as it will in the dry days of high July. It wasn't difficult, just time consuming, and you all know how I do so love being in the sun. Oh, well, at least I got a nice burn on my face, neck, and forearms. It is important to lay down a solid solar foundation. Another two burns and I'll have a solid tan until Labor Day.

I began around noon and was done mowing and weed-whacking about 4:30; the added half-hour was for the interlude where I took the Mousmobile back to the shop to pay for the work on Woody and get back the keys. After Dad got home, we'd go over in the Impala and I'd drive Woody back to the ranch. It's a full life. The yard work done, the clippings out on the curb for pick-up, the certain rain not yet arrived, I took a cold shower (I feel I need to take more cold showers to toughen myself up) and went online. Not long after I signed on, Darth Vater got home and said, "Anytime you're ready we can go pick up the Caprice (Woody)." When my father sez "anytime you're ready," that means right now. I dawdled for a brief few minutes and then we were off. By this point, I'm just weary. Lack of sleep plus the relentless pounding of the sun... I was done. Mostly, though, I'm sick of picking up Woody at Mr. Front End. (In the last two weeks, we have done this routine at least three times. I seriously don't understand what he's having them do over and over and over again.)

After that, I sit down to enjoy Around the Horn, but find it preempted by baseball coverage. I do not like baseball, but I understand that many people do; so, it is a good idea for ESPN to televise the games. What I don't understand is preempting scheduled programming for a May baseball game. The playoffs I could understand, but this is May. There are, let's say, thirty major league teams. Each plays 162 games a year. That means four thousand eight hundred sixty games each summer. 4,860. (That's 9 1/2 NFL seasons, an entire decade of football.) Plus playoffs, there are approximately 5,000 MLB games a year. FIVE. THOUSAND. Why preempt regular programing? If people miss this one game, there at 4,999 others they could eventually watch. Fucking hell, I cannot wait for the end of baseball in 2042.

Mom gets home around 7:00. She's had a bad day; so, I tell her a few jokes and listen to what went wrong and help her prepare dinner. (No big deal, we had tacos and all I did was brown the meat. But with my mon, it's the thought that counts.) Then Star Trek: Enterprise - tonight's episode, "The Council," was excellent - and The West Wing. I do the dishes and watch the bulk of the second season of The Office. Thank Bog, I needed that. And now here we are and I'm still tired.

It was not going to be an extraordinary day. Today was not going to be the day that I woke up out of this pathetic existence and moved out of my parents' house. Today was not going to be the day I left my beloved country to bind myself to exile to serve my captives' need. Today was not to be the day I changed anyone's life for the better. Today was just going to be a good day. I was going to listen to a lot of music that I love. I was going to pick out songs for a mix that I am going to give to someone I deeply care about. I was going to enjoy today. And it came to naught. And "the best laid plans of mice and men..." is a nice cliche, and true through and through, but it hardly makes me feel better. Today, I came one day closer to the end of my days and I have nothing to show for it other than a neatly mown lawn and $25. That's something, but it's not what I wanted for today.

I know my tenses are all over the place throughout, but I'm going to leave it all as it is. I like something about the way it all doesn't fit togother as a cohesive whole.