Mission Somethings Accomplished

I was given the day off work today.

It's an unusual event, and I sat down with Mrs. Apron last night to plan out how I would spend my precious day out of the occupational clutches. Some people tan themselves on their days off. Some people go to the zoo. Some see their friends, or their shrinks. Me? Well, I had a little list.

It was called:

Mr. Apron & Kumar's Jerk Off Day List

1.) Install flakeboard in kitchen cabinet.

2.) Strip wallpaper

3.) Call paint-covered loser (the second painter with the moth-eaten sweater) and ask WTF re: quote.

4.) Cancel Closet Goy appointment.

5.) Resolve legal billing question for lawyerly mother-in-law.

6.) Pay car payment (in pocket)

7.) Pay car insurance (on mantle)

8.) Go to Staples and buy a fucking filing cabinet.

9.) Haircut?

10.) Masturbate.

11.) Vegetables for Stir Fry (sugar snap peas, bee-bee corn)

12.) Masturbate again.

13.) Pleasure drive.

14.) Banjo

15.) Blog (and help Dad with his work blog)

16.) Pick up Mrs. Apron's prescription.

17.) Pittsburgh funeral on webstream - 1pm.

It's an ecclectic to-do list, isn't it? The product of a disordered mind with with a flailing desire for structure, order and accomplishment.

Well, Johnny-- how'd he do?

1.) I did not even attempt to install the flakeboard in the kitchen cabinet. No way. Didn't get near it. Requires a drill. Drills scare me. It's why I don't go to the dentist and avoid construction sites certain porn sites.

2.) What? There's wallpaper that needs to be stripped? Where?

3.) Right. So, I called the stumbly, erratic, paint-covered, poorly-dressed painter. His mom answered the phone-- the one who either dines on meth or enjoys repeatedly slamming her head onto formica surfaces.

Me: Hi.

Her: (Silence.)

Me: Um... hi. Is Brian there?

Her: Who?

Me: Uh... Brian?

Her: Oh! Er.... No.

Me: Okay. Well, can I leave a message?

Her: Sure.

Yeah, "sure" is right. Sure, he'll get that message-- just as sure as this blog will one day be an international best seller. Just like I just won the UK Lottery again (third time this month!). Just like my scent is an instant female lubricant.

Sure. I might as well have left the message with his cat.

4.) Closet Goy = Cancelled.

Closet Goy Receptionist: Well, I'll have her give you a call back and you can discuss it.

Me: Uh, no, I don't think you understand. I don't want anybody to be giving me a call back, because there is nothing to discuss. I cancel. Period."

Whore.

5.) Legal issue resolved. My mother-in-law sometimes doesn't know her own email address. This presents problems.

6.) Car payment paid. Only $5,736 left till I completely own.... a Ford Focus. Yeah.

7.) Car insurance paid. Come hit/steal/immolate my Ford Focus!

8.) What? We need a filing cabinet? Where?

9.) What? I need a haircut? Where?

10.) You know you're having a real busy day off when there's no time to masturbate.

11.) We had leftover matzah-ball soup for dinner. Fuck the stir-fry.

12.) See #10.

13.) Well, I drove a lot today. None of it was pleasurable.

14.) Played banjo from 4:17pm-5:06pm. Fingers & shoulder hurt.

15.) Blogged this morning, oh, and now! How fucking meta!

16.) Picked up the prescription. Now my wife will be free of acid reflux for another month.

17.) Attempts to view the Pittsburgh funeral ceremony subverted by no video link on the webstream. I could have just listened, like old timey radio days, but who has the patience/imagination for that?

Here were the things I did today that weren't on the list:

* Drove the dog to the groomer. He looks and smells so fantastic I can't stop kissing the big, gray bastard.

* Mailed a copy of my book to the webmaster of an anti-Mumia blog. He's agreed to post selections on his site. Can you say "royalties?!" Actually, can you say "death threats?!"

* Drove a copy of my book and a donation check to the Officer John Pawlowski Memorial Trust Fund to the 35th Police District, and was brought in to meet the Captain. He was touched. "Can I take this home with me tonight?" he said, referring to the book. "You can do whatever you want with it," I said. Better he take the book home than the check.

* Drove to the hardware store (three fucking times) to buy one door knob, then another, then return both. A vain effort to replace the obscenely filthy, mung-covered door knob on our kitchen door. Ended up just scrubbing the existing door knob with a "Chore-Boy" steel-wool and windex. All of the mung eventually came off, running in brown and green rivulets down my hand, causing me to gag. Door knob looks excellent, though. Realized that product names like "Chore Boy Steel Wool," "Aunt Jemima Pancakes," "Uncle Ben Rice," and "Good Little Negro Industrial Varnishing Exfoliant" are offensive and should be abolished, along with antiquated sport team names like "The Cleveland Indians," the "San Francisco Homosexual Panics" and the "Palo Alto Retards."

* Bought my wife a pair of shoes (coral red Keens-- cute!) at a swanky boutique. Not necessarily my style since Mrs. Apron turned me onto T.J. Maxx, but I was in the neighborhood killing time while the groomer was finishing perming my dog's asshole. The makeup-caked sales associate gave me the bag and said, "And here's your shoes and receipt and, by the way, you're the best husband in the world."

Awww.

Not quite. If I were, I would have installed that fucking flakeboard in the kitchen, too.