Yup... I love the shit. Wifey went to Walmart for a few things and I called her to pick me up a cheesecake. Saturday night has arrived and I'm wiped out. I was supposed to attend an AA meeting tonight, but I came home from work and am simply wiped out. A slice of cheesecake will be all I need to induce a sugar coma and bid fairwell to another day....I'll be asleep by 11:00.
I've got Clapton's Crossroads concert on the DVD player, I'm kicked back in my recliner (in the horizontal position) pants unsnapped to allow my sagging belly to "be free" as my wrinkled pudgy fingers struggle to bang these words out. Ahh western culture.. Ya gotta love it (that's my attempt at sarcasm).
I really want to go play drums but I know it aint gonna happen. And tomorrow is an early morning meeting, yardwork and some type of family outing which will turn into another day that I wont get to play drums. I havent played in 2 weeks. For the last 2 months I bet I've only played 5 or 6 times. My share of the rent is 89 bucks. Basically I'm paying 89 bucks to store my kit.
OK I just killed a slice of cheesecake in record time. Where was I?? Oh yea, bitching about not getting to play my drums enough. So anyway, before I got the job at the music store, and became a lazy screw, I would go down to the jam pad at the drop of a hat to play, even on work nights till 11 or so and get up the next morning and the tired feeling would be worth it because I got to play.
Now it seems that all I do is build drum sets and sell shit for others to enjoy. I come home and park my fat ass in this recliner and surf the net.. I listen to my wife bitch and moan about whatever crap she has going on, and I listen to the kids yell and scream at each other till my eyes cant hold themselves open any more.
I get up the next morning and go to PT and run my fat ass around a track till I'm about to puke up a fucking lung, then I go to work and listen to every body on SAFB whine when it isnt just perfect in their office.
Everyone seems to want or need something from me. All I want is some alone time with my tubs. WTF...I'm the living, breathing example of the American Dream (nightmare); Over worked, over weight, undersexed (thats a whole different post).
Again, all I want is some alone time with my tubs...