Even A Broken Clock

I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life today. I ate lunch at 11:30 in the morning. I’m not a breakfast guy. Most of you feebs can’t deal with life without some coffee and eggs or some such nonsense, but for me I don’t even want to think of anything remotely solid to eat before noon. It’s probably part of the reason my metabolism has essentially shut down and I’ve become a fat slob but this isn’t about my fat ass or the fact that your mom likes being spanked; this is about my shitty lunch and how it ruined my day.

Right now its 8:30 at night, which is to say it’s 3:30 in the afternoon. I ate lunch 4 hours ago, which roughly how many hours it screwed up my internal clock. Apparently a fifteen minute deviation from my “routine” results in a one hour drag in my brain. I feel like I’ve been here 5 hours longer than I actually have and this has been going on ever since I got back from lunch (around noon, because I get a shitty short lunch). I realize this is interesting to no one. It’s not even interesting to me, but I’m trying to kill some time until the real world catches up with my brain and I got nothing else to talk about. Sure, I could talk about being  cougar bait at the hotel bar last night and the two women that were yelling and fighting over me and my buddy Dave, but who wants to hear saggy tits and leopard print?

I could talk about how I only packed one pair of dress pants this week – because I’m only here for two days and Friday morning and brown’s a versatile color so fuck it, right? – and then spilled beer all over them at the Japanese restaurant and had a twenty minute discussion over whether or not I should wear them tomorrow or just cut out my own larynx with the chopsticks.

Truth is, none of it is particularly interesting. My hope was that by starting to write about uninteresting things, something interesting would pop into my brain pan, but no such luck.