• Waiting

    Waiting room writing is a feature that is surely sorely missed on this site. Today’s entry comes to you courtesy of the hairdresser’s lobby.

    Yes, I am a man. Yes, I am at a hairdresser. Once relegated to the barbers of the world, today’s liberated man can confidently tend to his grooming needs side by side with his women folk. I am the very model of modern masculinity.

    Postscript: The savvy reader will note the prior entry and find that the gig is up. Alright, it’s not like Cheryl asked me to strip and wax the floors (although I’ll bet a little stripping and waxing would be just the thing for our carpets and tile). There’s just something that doesn’t sit well with me in a barber’s chair. Maybe it’s the sitting prone while someone wields objects banned on all domestic and international flights? There’s no reinforced door between the barber and me. It’s mano y mano, and I’m the one practically tied down under a cape. No wonder I’m nervous.

  • Beast of burden

    Friends, today I wish to speak to you about unreasonable requests. I was speaking to my wife on the phone this morning about allergy skin testing, when I decided to change the subject.

    “Cheryl, I need to get going. I’m about to leave work early today… in about 10 minutes. I wanted to try and get the raking done before this weekend, and I’ve got that extra time built up from court running long this week. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to get some stuff done at home.”

    “Oh, that sounds good. After you get done with that why don’t you….”

    As the immortal Dicky V. might say, “I need a T.O. baby!”

    As far as I’m concerned raking is the Everest of yard work details. There is no “after” you get done with raking, unless you’re talking about a little horizontal time with your favorite pillow. The problem we have here is that one of us is a little out of touch, and John’s got just thing to put us back in perceptive sync.

    I think it’s high time my wife did a little raking.

  • A fresh bout of insomnia

    As it stands right now, as of this very moment, I could conceivably get five hours of sleep tonight. But that’s not gonna happen. I’ve got about as much chance going to sleep right now as I’ve got going outside and getting a sunburn. It’s a pity. I was just starting to hit my stride again. Now I’ll be lucky to make it through lunch fully conscious. It stands to reason that as soon as I got over my 336 hour flu that I’d find something else to muddle my mind. I’m just going to have to face it – I had it coming. No use whining about it now.

    Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell you something you haven’t heard already… right?