Ignorance, But Not So Much Confidence, The Coffee Situation, My Disproportionate Head and Shopping In My Mamma's Linen Closet

Okay:

So, my 3-day weekend is over and I finally posted the album. The download numbers are not as high as expected, but I promised myself I wouldn't allow myself to become discouraged by obsessing over numbers. Which is pretty much a guarantee that I will.

But I digress. Business talk is boring. *yawn*

Back to the random thoughts of a self-absorbed, unsuccessful, independent artist.

This morning I noticed that I waste anywhere between 30 minutes and an hour every morning, just sort of sitting there. Not engaged in any particular activity, just kind of dicking around.

It's quite amazing, actually. I guess it's my version of meditation, as it were. Sometimes I'll turn on the computer. Open a program. Then close it. Listen to half of a song. Watch half of a video. Then I'll put on a pot of coffee.

The coffee situation in my apartment has been weird lately. I've been frequenting the recently opened Organic Market around the corner and using their soy french vanilla creamer, as well as their raw sugar. It makes a not altogether bad cup, but it's not what I'm used to.

Soy milk has a bizarre silky texture that makes me nauseous. I certainly prefer International Delight. And the raw sugar has a concentrated sweetness that is difficult to measure. So my cups lack the thickness of a traditional cup and are usually too sweet or not sweet enough.

But I'm trying to get used to it. I don't want to die of coffee. That would be pathetic.

I also look at myself in the mirror a lot. I'm wondering whether or not I want to lose weight. I mean, if I can become more disciplined with my workout schedule and commit some time everyday, I could be ripped by Christmas.

Losing any more weight may not be a good idea because...well...I've got a huge fucking head, actually. I mean, it's noticeably large. Retard big.

I don't want to look like a lollipop. Twenty less pounds and I suppose my dates will be expecting me to start drooling and banging my head on the wall. I shouldn't be surprised if they start shoving creamed corn in my mouth with a small rubber spoon.

Then, of course, I have my private time. Which I'm enjoying less and less these days. Seems like a good sign that I'll be able to ween myself off the practice eventually. I'd like to be done with it by the time I get married.

That would be awfully pathetic, now, wouldn't it? Locking myself in the bathroom for 20 minutes at a time or insisting on not being disturbed when I'm "working" on the computer. "Knock before you enter," and all that.

Then I take a shower. My tub is really, quite filthy these days. Mildew is forming. It hasn't taken on a smell, but it's only a matter of time. I've seen this before.

In my case, it's usually a sign that I'm depressed or stressed out. My kitchen floor is also pretty nasty. And sticky, actually. Which I suppose is a whole 'nother level of filth.

So, today I am going shopping. I need lotion, a mop, soap, a new shower liner, dishwashing detergent and laundry detergent. But I don't have any money in my account really, so I'm not going to the store, per se.

I'm at my mother's house.

Her being from the south and raised by parents who lived through the Depression, she's a stockpiler of toiletries and the like. She's got enough toilet paper and what have you to make it through the next two administrations.

So, when she gets home, I plan to hit her up for some bare necessities. She'll pretend to be annoyed but will secretly take great pleasure in having her closet raided. "What would you do if your mamma wasn't always so well-prepared?" she'll ask.

"Go to work ashy," I'll say.

Here's the album again.

Thanks for reading.


GOBAMA/BIDEN!


Innocent Question: When out of toilet paper, what's the strangest thing you've ever wiped your ass with?