#Monday Morning Commute
Welcome to Monday Morning Commute, friends. It’s pretty much the end of the day here on the Eastern Coast of the Empire, but hey. I’m but one FictionMan, attempting to cobble together the disparate entities of the Space-Ship into one meandering husk. So forgive me! And I have to cop to you. A variety of Really Privileged Problems have me a bit worn down, today. Oh, I got married. Boohoo. Oh, I was lucky enough to come back and have to start my job I have immediately. Wah wah. Oh, I’m buying a house and all that financial expenditure is sort of terrifying. Cry more. I get it.
This is my third week of marriage. It feels very much the similar to the life I was living prior to marriage – namely a maelstrom of responsibilities and too few nights spent actually enjoying the company of my Wife. We spent the weekend house shopping, and now she’s away on business. When…when does life calm down? And in the midst of all that bullshit — we are submitting an offer sheet on a house tomorrow. So there’s that. Either we get a house tomorrow, or we have to hit the house hunting grind again this weekend. Which, admittedly, is a privilege. I get that. But it’s stressful as fuck, and at a certain point having more space for shit you probably doesn’t need must feel irrelevant in the Frowning Face of Not Enjoying Time with a loved one. Right?
Welcome back to Monday Morning Commute! Missed it last week. Was away. Being on a “honeymoon” with the “love of my life” doing “cool things.” Naw — I’m just fucking around. It was pretty fantastic. But here I am. A year-and-a-half journey has come to its end and now SAM-OMEGA and I “on to the next chapter of our life”, which hopefully doesn’t “cost thousands upon thousands of dollars” to live out like the previous one.
They soar! Fuck limitations, man. Kick the hinges off the Impossible Door, and run into the Halls of Improbability dropping stone-cold stunners and rock bottoms! This is Monday Morning Commute. And together we shall brave the perpetual irradiation that is Life, uniting in some sort of Existential Voltron. Or! Or at the very least. With fingers with nails with caked-on Dominos pizza crust, we shall what we’re up to this week.
Happy Memorial Day to ya’ll living within the Empire! As a child, most of my worldview was shaped by the World Wrestling Federation. And to be honest, I’m almost positive I’m better for it. And one thing I learned is that those who turn their back on their country are thick-jawed, dastardly pieces of shit. (Like Sgt. Slaughter.) Don’t be a Sgt. Slaughter. Give big ups to those who have served in a moment of fleeting, momentary clarity. And then go about your proper Imperial means of celebration. Charred animal flesh. Excessive drinking. Maybe a jingoistic, statistically inaccurate proclamation about Whatever You Really Like In America.
Welcome friends, to the weekly Commute. It’s early Monday evening as I type this. WWE’s finest thespians babbling incoherently on my Tele-Visor. Mrs. CaffPow preoccupied, whipping up some cupcakes for some sort of party at work. The sky is dark, the heart is light. My semester is over for a couple of weeks.
Oh come all ye degenerates! Hop in the back of my apocalypse van. Don your headgear. Station your flesh-sack safely within some of my finest armor, carved from jerkied Marauder flesh and cheap steel. And ride! Ride with me! On this Monday Morning Commute. Beclad in armor, mind rotting with the Hops and Leaves, we shall share what we’re enjoying this week.
It’s getting nice out, folks. The sunshine is popping here on the Northeastern seaboard of the Empire. Temperatures are in the 80s today. The sky is blue. It’s almost enough to get you through the workday alone. If you’re one of those people who can appreciate leaving to Sol smiling upon your face, and not lament the fact that you’re indoors for eight-hours of its beauty. I am one of those people. So I’m feeling pretty fucking content, today. But that doesn’t mean I ain’t sweating a bunch of stuff this week. So Monday Morning Commute shall, of course, run its course. It just means that I’m going to be moderately less depressed as I toil through the week towards enjoying these arts, farts, and sundries.
It’s Monday Morning Commute! That time of the week where I share the various shizit I’m going to be totally rubbin’ up upon during a given week. These proverbial (and literal) dry-humpings are intended as salves against the burn of Existence. Ultimately empty employments of distraction that prohibit me from achieving some sort of proletarian cathexis designed to Damn The Man. But let’s be honest. We can’t damn the man, that ship has sailed. So let’s watch superhero movies, drink beer, and enjoy our moments of frivolity.
Welcome to Monday Morning Commute aboard the Space-Ship OMEGA. Truth be told: there ain’t much commuting in Massachusetts on this wonderful day. It’s Patriots Day. Which, I’m pretty sure, is only celebrated here in the State that Spawned the Empire, You’re Welcome. But that doesn’t mean there ain’t a litany of things I’m looking forward to this week. So here is a lost of pop culture artifacts I’m absorbing into my ethereal corpus in an effort to deny myself the agony of existence. Be sure to share your own!