So, anyway... here I am working and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. I should be plastered in front of the TV like my kids are... or snuggled under the covers in bed with a trashy novel. Or, better yet, I should observe "Columbus Day" in the proper, most common-sensical way by barging into someone else's house and claiming it as my own. Where can I find some vials of small pox?
But, sadly, I'm not doing any of that fun stuff. I'm working. I've got deadlines to meet today; shit to write and asses to chew on. I'm sure that halfway through the day, I'll decide I've had enough bullshit and pour myself an adult beverage and chillax a little. And, when 3:00pm rolls around and I decide to go out and check the mail because I've forgotten it's a damn holiday, I'll be pissed off all over again because my Netflix delivery won't be there. Christopher Columbus was an asshole.