Lacking All Sensibility

What the fuck is wrong with me.

First I got up late. I laid in bed listening to big mouth Paula and friends outside my door, barking like dogs in an alleyway. I would not get up. The time was around Seven and I had my doctor's appointment with the incredible Dr. A. at Nine. But I couldn't move. I thought that maybe some bean or tea would move me. I thought that all I would need is a strong enough dose of caffeine and all would be golden. I make a carafe and, while waiting, turned on my laptop.

As soon as she booted up, I hooked into mIRC and got on IRC. Just that fast. With a cup of coffee in hand I slipped 'In Channel' and POW! The chat room was filled with my friends welcoming me with hugs, handshakes and pats on the back. A fucking cheerful group happy to see me. I sat there, drinking coffee, typing naked behind my laptop until the sun rose fully and Nine O'clock rolled around. I looked up at the microwave clock, the only clock that works now because my watch chose to die on me, and grimaced at how fast time seemed to fly when on IRC. You can easily burn the entire day down, reading new things, doing new things, going new places, installing new programs. Everything is new.

I feel like a kid at Walt Disney World. In wide eyed wonderment of everything going on around me. I wonder when this novelty will wear out, when all this will become boring to me, and then the Internet will become stale? I wonder, seriously, if all this will one day go away. I'm certain that it will. Nothing enjoyable remains for long. IF it did, sex would last for weeks, non-stop. Soon, you tire. Soon you need to eat and sleep. Life creeps in, a little at a time. But I can see building a strong fixation here. Something seriously to consider.

As the afternoon wore on, it became time for me to go to see Dr. L at One. I got cleaned up, dressed and packed all of my gear. This would be a long day out after leaving, so I wanted my laptop on me. I trudged downstairs and headed to Duane Reade. I don't know if it's all the shrimp that I've been eating lately, but when I was trying to open up a can of tuna the other night I destroyed my can opener. I mean, the fucking thing came completely apart, disintegrating in my hands. I thought some fucking screw came loose, but no. The bitch was welded together, and she broke in three spot welded places. Goddamn. No tuna for me that night. So first stop was Duane Reade, who had shit, followed by Walgreens, who had the same. But what Walgreens DID have were forks, eight for two dollars. I couldn't walk away from that since I only have one fork.

From there I went to Gristedes. The sun had ducked behind a pall of grey clouds. Drizzle was starting to fall. I slipped into the grocery store and found a can opener the likes of something out of combat! The little fucker was made out of heavy gauge aluminum, as big as my opened hand, solid as a motherfucker. It looked like it was used to open up skulls rather than poor tuna cans. Although expensive, I fell in love with the bastid in seconds and bought it. With glee, I trotted outside to a now falling sprinkle. I walked to the street corner, stopping at the entrance to the Way and froze.

I froze as if struck by palsy. If I was going a few steps faster, I would have tumbled rigid like a board down the stairs. I did not want to go to Dr. L's. Simple as that. I wanted to buy shrimp and salad and dressing and go upstairs and have lunch. Dr. L would no doubt be furious, and I would have to come up with a good excuse...but I didn't want to. Still there was something still inside of me that wanted to go. Some feeble urging telling me that to stay home would be wrong, but the mob scene inside of me dragged it flailing out into the soon to be falling rain and beat it until they killed it. I was going home.

I head down the block and follow the terrific hips of a woman swaying in a pleated summer dress to my apartment and go upstairs. So? So what? I'm a single man. If I find a woman attractive, so what? I don't have a wife to feel guilty about, and I most assuredly don't feel guilty about staring at a woman's hips and ass. It made for a scenic walk through an otherwise drab landscape. But that's besides the point. That's besides the ass too...ha ha ha.

I head upstairs. Unpacked my gear, set up my laptop, made tuna on a bed of salad and JUMPED THE FUCK ON IRC. I was on with my friends in a minute, who wondered what I was up to. Didn't I say that I had a doctor's appointment? I told them that it was canceled. I settled down for the rest of the day, taking in information. Everything from the absurd to the interesting. There was nothing in the middle left out. People...not websites alone...but people are the most interesting, fascinating thing on the Internet. A bunch of eggheads may get together and make it possible for the news, weather and traffic to reach you at the speed of light, but it an entirely different thing to have the thoughts of people reach out to you from the ether.

I am in Nirvana.

Hobobob