Yet another by-gone weekend
September 22, 2002 ~ 11:17 p.m.
Home alone! Now what?
OK, I�ve got the apartment to myself for a whole week, and I really do not know what to do with myself. It�s the typical married-guy�s quandary. You spend so much of your waking existence praying for the opportunity to get the place to yourself. But when you finally do? The reality you�ve known for years suddenly crashes. No wife equals no nagging, no having to step out when you�d really much rather stay in, no having to find ways to sate her boredom. But although blissful in a sense, it�s a strange form of loneliness. You begin to realize that something is definitely missing, a chunk of your life � or the life to which you�ve become accustomed � is non-existent. It�s like a void begging to be filled. As much as I love being able to sing along to CDs at 3 in the morning and bolt myself indoors for the entire weekend like the hermit that I am, I do acknowledge my wife�s absence. Hell, maybe by the time the week�s over and out, I may have begun to miss her.
Strange but true.
How to drink on pennies: A case study
Yesterday presented a truly sitcom moment for your favorite dragon of the night. With very little money at my disposal, on account of being in the poorhouse until pay-day on Tuesday, I fished out my last remaining big coins from my purse (50p, two 20p�s and two 5 p�s) to make �1 � enough money for one beer, but not enough beer for me. I broke out a bag of pennies (and 2p) coins that I�d collected. All together, they accounted for 90p. So I went to the store just up the block and bought a tall can each of Fosters and Kronenbourg.
I handed the lady at the counter the regular change and then the bag of pennies. �Count them, if you like,� I told her, referring to the bag of copper. �I�m not in a hurry.�
�It�s all right, cheers,� came her reply.
Although of Pakistani origin, she has obviously been in England long enough to recognize the desperation of someone who just needs a drink � or two. While walking the one block back home, I broke out in sonorous laughter. How pathetic is that anyway?
Have you loved your organs lately?
Well, in case anyone�s curious, I have had another relatively dry week, and I didn�t even drink at all on Friday night. The two beers yesterday were great, but were only enough to give me a mild buzz, not enough to get me drunk (I mean, please, we�re talking about a lad who can easily drink people under the table here). And today, I�m literally penniless. Not even 1p to my name until Tuesday. So another dry day.
Why am I trying to abstain or at least cut down, you ask? Nothing major, just figured my body could use the break, that�s all. I do believe my liver is thanking me.
Having the honor of being male, I love one of my organs each and every day. But I figured it was time I started loving some others.
Are you metric enough to use this deodorant?
While cooking my farfalle tonight, I glanced across the kitchen counter to the container of Lynx spray deodorant that I use after my daily swims. I read the directions which entreats you to use in the following manner:
�Hold can 15cm from the body and spray.�
Excuse me, but I�m a Yank. I understand inches. What exactly constitutes 15 centimeters? I don my shirt, put my hand underneath and spray. I figure I give it about 2 or 3 inches.
Well, slap me and call me bitch, but turns out 15 centimeters is 6 inches! I�ve been engaging in substance abuse all this time. Someone incarcerate me for my own good.
Or put the instructions in frigging Imperial measurements. This is, after all, the land where it was invented.
And, by the way, just what is that unusually large lowercase �e� after the weight/measurement analysis on every single product � as in �150 ml e� or �300 g e.� I don�t get it. If someone can solve that mystery for me, you�d put my mind at eternal rest.
Monday, Monday �
Hey, I just realized, it�s Monday tomorrow! I�m excited, aren�t you? No?
OK, then, fuck it.
� M.E.M.
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Copyright � 2001-2007 by M.E. Manning. All material is written by me, unless explicitly stated otherwise by use of footnotes or bylines. Do not copy or redistribute without my permission.
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