Will's Coffee House

John Dryden, Dramatist, Critic, Poet Laureate, and my ancestor, frequented a coffee house called Will's almost daily, where he would hold forth on sundry subjects with great wit and aplomb. Same deal here, only without the wit or aplomb.

Location: Large Midwestern City, Midwestern State, United States

I am a stranger in a sane land...

Thursday, January 19, 2006

S*** What I Gotta Do Over the Next Few Days

1. Finish reading "Song of Myself."
2. Shot of Jack Daniels to take the taste of Whitman out of my mouth.
3. Draw up lesson plans for teaching "Song of Myself."
4. Second (and possibly third) shot of Jack Daniels to ease the guilt of forcing Whitman on unsuspecting freshmen.
5. Finish prepping lesson plan for campus visit. This will involve reading not only the play I've been assigned, but 'background' reading as well. Pleasant enough, but--
6. Fourth shot of Jack Daniels to take the edge off of my nerves over upcoming campus visit.
7. Nap. Detox.
8. Continue to read Gibbon's Decline and Fall. Yes, I know it's three volumes and eighty bajillion pages long, but that's no excuse.
9. Congratulate myself on not pursuing an activity (see #8) that requires a shot of Jack Daniels afterwards. Shot of Jack Daniels to celebrate.
10. Exercise.
11. Shot of Jack Daniels to rehydrate after exercise.
12. Continue to compile list of 'things I like about myself' as per new therapist's instructions. Shot of Jack Daniels to facilitate. Find it surprisingly easy afterwards, if "I'm f***ing awesome" and "I don't take s*** from no one" consitute acceptable entries. Many typos, but who gives a flying f***? F*** it.
13. Shot of Jack Daniels--Just Because, OK? And what the f*** are you looking at?!
14. Find bed, or softer portion of floor. Sleep, trying not to lie on my back, since that's how you asphyxiate on your own vomit.
15. Wake up. Realize that waking up was not a good idea. Return to sleep, only mildly concerned that I can recall nothing of the previous 24 hours.
16. Scream at drummer next door to knock it the f*** off.
17. Realize that there is no drummer next door, and that that's my head.
18. Summon will to rise. Brush teeth. Brush tongue. Brush roof of mouth. Gargle with Windex, which seems to be the only thing that will remove the aftertaste of sludge.
19. Realize that gargling with Windex hurts quite a lot. Realize that I'm a pathetic loser, alone and hungover and accomplishing nothing with my life. Long, long crying jag.
20. Drive to Costco. For some reason, we're out of Jack Daniels.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

You're turning into Bridget f***ing Jones, d'you know that?

10:03 PM  
Blogger Yr. Hmbl. & Obdt. said...

Hah. I should *be* so profitable.

11:03 PM  

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