One of Those Days

So I woke up yesterday morning to sleet and freezing rain pelting my bedroom window. The stuff had apparently been coming down all night, coating all driving surfaces in the state with a lovely slippery skin of solid ice.

One look outside, and my suspicions were confirmed: Today's gonna be one of those days.

I made the announcement to Brandon, who adamantly denied it was one of those days. He retorted that he was going to make something out of the day; that it's only one of those days if you let it become one of those days.

I know better.

Once one of those days comes along, the day has already decided what it is. It's been planning it for weeks. And humankind is powerless to change the fate of that day, regardless of how hard they try to counteract the day's intentions.

Knowing this, I quickly resolved to make it the laziest, most unproductive day I've had in months. In accordance, I made the following arrangements:

With that, I began the day. But since it's more fun when you've got someone else to waste a 24-hour period with, I attempt to poison Brandon's resolve with a little friendly antagonism.

“I'm going to the mall”
“No you're not. Nobody's going to the mall. The mall's not even open in these conditions.”
“Oh, it's open. And I'm going.”
“It's one of those days. You can't go to the mall on one of those days.”
“I refuse to allow it to become one of those days. I'm going to the mall.”
“It's already one of those days. You'll never make it to the mall.”

Then I unleashed my coup de grâce. MegaMan X.

He'd been playing it for a few weeks, and was just close enough to the end that the desire was in place to finish it this weekend.

Seven hours later, he was still playing, and still hadn't left the apartment.

At some point during the day, I offered Brandon twenty bucks to run around outside wearing nothing but a sock. He seemed like he was considering it, but the deal expired before he ever did it. Doing that after sundown isn't really worth a Jackson to me.

The rest of the time, as I was developing a ripe odor, I sat on the couch watching Brandon play the final levels of MegaMan: the author and finisher of Brandon's fate.

I don't know why I get such a thrill out of not doing anything at all. Or not bathing.

Me and Jaime pulled a similar stunt during his first finals week at OU. We slept until about an hour before whatever final we had that afternoon. Then, once we were through, we went back to bed. Neither of us showered until Thursday of that week.

It was gross. It was wonderful. It was sick. It was exhilarating.

What is wrong with me?

Maybe I have a secret aspiration to be a bum.

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