Mamma mia! Take a depressed dude (hi!) and mix-in some insane work schedule, and what do you get? Just an absolute fucking absence from the digital universe. Specifically, his own Space-Ship. For that, I’m sorry. Apologies, my friends! Apologies. I’m trying. And I suppose that’s really all any of us can be doing in the Year of Misery, 2020.
Shit’s just hard right now! Damn hard. Which means I’m retreating into a cocoon of silence, watching my favorite comedies such as Always Sunny for momentary amusement, and trying and failing to sleep.
Oh yeah, motherfuckers! It’s time for high fiving, and high flying! At least for Bateman and me! Tomorrow night we’re going to a Halloween party, and with the lede in mind, you can guess who we are going as! And I’ll confess, I’ve never been closer to having a mustache. And I’ll confess, it terrifies me.
If you’re good, you’ll get pictures. Unless it terrifies you as well, in which you’ll get pictures if you sin.
Anyways! Anyways. This is Weekend Open Bar! It’s the hangout that hits every weekend, imploring you to spend some time with me aboard the Space-Ship Omega.
Bet you thought you had seen the last of me, fuckers! It’s been a hot minute since I cranked out one of these Monday Morning Commute columns. I’ve returned, though. Full of vim and vigor, ready to golly gee knock this one right out of the fucking park! The fahhhkin’ pahk, kehd! Actually, that’s a handful of goose shit. In fact, I was laying on the futon in my office nary two hours ago just fucking zoning out, man. But here we are.
I’m still sucking wind, thankfully. My summer course is winding down, thankfully. And, OL still exists. Thus, it seems clear that I must carry out the car-crash that is the column! Give you folks, you fucks, the ole rundown of what I’m up to this week. You know, the games I’m playing. You know, the books I’m reading. That sort of tomfoolery.
Then, if you’d be so obliged, join me in the comments section! Tell me, what you’re cranking it to this week. Be it literally, be it figuratively! Both!
I’ll go first.
I’m glad you (didn’t) ask! I just blitz’d a weekend in Maui for a best friend’s wedding, and well. Coming back to reality after two days in paradise requires efforting on several levels. Readjusting to timezones, readjusting to the perils and praxis of regular life, yadda, yadda.
But I can’t complain.
I’ve discovered the answer to a question I’ve been asking myself since last year, when I knew I would be going to Maui. Is thirty hours of travel in the span of four days, and thousands of dollars for said travel, and missing teaching two incredibly intensive summer classes, worth forty-eight hours in paradise, for a best friend’s wedding?
But this, right here! It’s the weekly column where we share what we’re up to, on a given week! I’ll share my own findings, as I rattle around in the befuddled muck of my consciousness, trying to figure out not just what I’m up to, but what day it is, what time it is, this and that, this and that.
I’m fucking tired, man. Like — way tired. Like — eyelids half closed. But here I am! But here we are. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where I share with you fellow rotting meat-sacks what I’m looking forward to each week. Furthermore, additionally, I then, with all my audacity, ask you to share what *you* anticipating across the next seven.
So! Without further ado, without further verbosity, without further self-indulgent blathering, let’s do this!
I’m just fucking done, man.
The semester has unravelled my precariously knitted-together psyche, spooling it across the OMNIVERSE. If you’ve randomly tripped today, know that it was probably a shredded, knotted, bloodied-strand of my former-consciousness. What was formerly an ebullient, marginally sarcastic whelp has been transformed into a quick-to-fret, foggy-headed nightmare.
I’m just fucking done, man.
This here is Monday Morning Commute, by way of Tuesday Afternoon, sponsored by Ennui and A Colossal, Albeit Ineffective Amount of Caffeine.
This is what I’m looking forward to, this is what’s on my mind, this is what’s simmering in my soul, this week.
The Sophists dance on the Funeral Pyres of Intellectualism, crafting arguments made of Fluff and Clickbait. The Cynics bark at the Low Hanging Fruit, crafting arguments made of Bitterness and Clickbait. The Virulent scream into the Faces of the Oppressed, crafting arguments encouraging them to sit down and enjoy it.
I stuff my face, refresh Tumblr, and welcome the Ennui.
I don’t consider myself a sophist, a cynic, or a virulent, mainly I’m just Tired.
Physically tired, after a trying few days. Mentally tired, after a trying few days.
I’m stuffed into dress clothes, unfortunately bulging with despair. I’m stuffed into dress, unfortunately (not) bulging with guts stuffed with junk food.
Welcome to the Grand Pall of MidSemester Ian!
There’s gotta be…I gotta be…Surely there are things for me to look forward to, this week. There’s gotta be…I gotta be…Surely there are things for enjoy, this week. Right? Right! Sure? Sure!
Join me in the comments section. Raise my Spirits. Raise My Soul. Exhume my essence and use it to fight your foes in astral combat. I don’t give a fuck!
Sorry for radio silence over the weekend, comrades. Had a bit of a weekend, comrades. Early Friday morning, my Nana sloughed off the mortal coil, and transcended meat-space. At the same time, I was stricken with the most staggering stomach flu I’ve ever had. Violence, friends. Violence erupting out of both ends, friends. By the time early Saturday morning rolled around, I was down a final grandparent and a literal seven pounds of fluids.
As I told you last week, comrades. We’re all riding shotgun with Entropy. Such it is for all of us, and neither my Nana nor my quivering flesh-bag could escape it. Can escape it. But she had a good run, 95 years-old. And I merely had the runs, 24 hours-long.
No matter. No worry. All flesh decays.
The column wherein I enumerate the especially enlisted distractions designed to glaze the gears of the existential engine during a given week.
Join me in the comments, comrades. Partake in this parade of particularities with your own choice cuts.
I’m just tired today, man. I don’t know what is is, perhaps just a case of the Mondays? Or maybe I’m just feeling a bit of the ennui because there’s nothing I’m really looking forward to this week? Usually I have something to hang my hat on – a new episode of a fave show, a new comic book dropping, or at the very least, a movie to entertain my brain-box. This week, though? Nothing, man. Nothing new at least. Just the usual week. Sam’s going away Saturday for business, I’m still overeating, America’s Favorite Fascist keeps running primaries. It’s pretty much stasis for this guy.
But uh, I suppose I am digging some stuff? Maybe?
I’ll share my sweatings for the seven days coming. Then hopefully you inspire me.
This is Monday Morning Commute.
Oh shit! I’ve been gone for a minute. Went deep, deep into a Star Wars-induced blackout last week. Then every time I began to peak my head out, someone wanted to know: what did I think, how did I feel, was it as good as the originals? (c’mon now!), how many times have you seen it? (three!), how many times do you want to see it? (seven, at least), when are you seeing it again? (tonight, by myself!) did it meet your expectations (my logical ones, not my emotional ones), on and on. And I realized, in that moment, that I really just wanted to digest the entire thing by myself. Or rather, not on the internet. Writ large.
But I’m back! This is Tuesday Afternoon Commute! Semester break finally begins for me, today. And it’s mere days until Christmas. So let’s hang out. What’s on your mind, what’s on your plate this week?