An Old Routine

It's nice to be close to home. For the record, I don't miss that forty minute drive each day, each way. I'd like to think hell wised up and replaced one of it's inner circles with any of our modern torments - traffic, waiting in line at Verizon, filing paperwork at the DMV. A pitchfork in the ass doesn't hold the same level of anguish as stop and go on 54.

I found myself home last night at 4:30, after stopping by Blockbuster's for twenty minutes. Things that are super cool? Going home to play video games for several hours, watch DVDs, play more games, break it up with dinner (Pork Shank!) and then cap it off by watching more DVDs. When did I used to behave like that again? Oh, college. Sweet fucking college. Life is now like the semester's when I really didn't care. Anyone who's been in college knows that apathy runs deep, but complete indifference is what governs the masses. Life now is a lot like floating in a pool, but when you go to pee like normal, you discover no one else cares about that yellow cloud hanging about your midsection.

Take for instance this conversation that probably could have taken place with my boss:

Me: Hey.
Boss: You do any of your work?
Me: Still trying to get around to it.
Boss: You caught up on Lost?
Me: Watched three hours this morning.
Boss: Call me when you get to last week's.
Me: I'm going to take a two hour lunch, so that may take a while.

It's amazing how working at 60% qualifies for trying hard in the real world. And being the D+ shooter that I am, I seem like a workhorse. What's it mean when I can slack off for little less than half my work week, come home to play nothing but movies and games, go to bed late, wake up later, and still be considered a good worker? Either I've hit jackpot or this 'real world' I was warned of isn't as hard. I remember High School being harder then college, and now I recall college being harder then the real world. Let's just hope I never have kids and complicate things.