Academik

Hey there,
Some days the worlds, events and movements flow like water across the slimy membranes of earth. Other days are slow and painful, making you aware of every last excruciating second of its passing. Then somewhere past that there is laundry day. I swear to you, as I have very few other e-witness', I can't seem to ever pull myself together enough to negotiate the very menial task of completing my laundry. This is to me indicative of volumes. Perhaps, you might think that is just another lethargic move from a man whom has often been referred to as a continuing series of lethargic moves, but I think its more than that, give me a chance.
First, everyone does it. That in and of itself should be sufficiently liberating. Which makes my hesitance to do the laundry very isolating. I know that I could very well me one of the few people on the planet with this kind of disdain for laundry day. The tower of dirty clothes, which have in a true Darwinist manner, evolved into a very distinct area in the left-ern part of my room. Making a pretty significant statement.
Second, it should be cathertic. It is a simple task to finish, something that everyone has reasonable success with. Although, I would be the first to admit that its kind of scary to dowith which you have little expierence and everyone else seems to do quite well, however I shouldn't let that bother me.
Third, and mainly,it is this. I believe it truly separates me from being a functional adult. There is no greater barometer of independence than the ability to clothe oneself. It is that very low hurdle that I am constantly not getting over. I Jesse Owens this shit though, I will enjoy it, I will become small tasks. I am Rosy.
My day has been somewhat fractured. For several reasons, not the least of which was my over-indulgence last night. Although it was prompted to a large degree by my roommates father gracing us, that is no excuse for allowing oneself to slip to the place that I was crouching in. I would share the specifics of my actual depravity, but there not as important as what I "should," take away form this experience and that is to become more and more like Macho Man Randy Savage. Really, I should just grow up and get a muscle-shirt.
I suppose that's it for me, the usual grade and speed at which I write have been greatly tempered by my brain functions (or lack thereof) and I guess it's time to draw the trainwreck to a close. But real trainwrecks are never this tidy there must be something that no one wanted to see but everyone had to look at. Although I don't know what that is, I hope that you go out and find it tonight. I hope that you find yourself well outside your own comfort zone and reveling it. So tomorrow I hope to see you with the tan that can only be acquired from over-exposure to neon lights. Be real.