Oh my Lord…sitting in this chair typing a post is much more relaxing than being at that nasty gym again.
One of the many, many things that sucks ass about working out is that it’s supposed to be a part of your “lifestyle” in order for it to make any difference. Apparently, going once or twice a month, or even once a week isn’t going to cut it.
That’s total horseshit. I should be able to reap the benefits of my two good workouts last week for at least a month, but instead, in order to not feel like a bloated piece of fuck later tonight after I pound some beers on my couch, I have to go workout yet again today. Please wish me luck to make that happen.
Anyway, even though it’s Monday, today is actually my Saturday. After seven straight days of work, I get to enjoy a fucking Monday and Tuesday off doing Monday and Tuesday things like take Ace to swimming lessons and maybe cutting the grass later on, if it doesn’t rain.
There are a million other chores that need to be done around the house as well.
We’ve become “those people” on our street.
Do you know “those people?”
“Those people” are sort of like “that relative” that we all have. Those people can be the neighbors that everyone else sort of rolls their eyes at when they pass by.
Their grass is often too long. Their dogs bark way too often. They drink beer in their driveway.
…at 10:39 AM.
You can sometimes identify “those people” by their vehicles.
They may own cars that have lost a hub cap and just decided to say, “fuck it” to spending $8 to replace it. Maybe, if they’re lucky, the other ones will fall off and it’ll bring symmetry to the family roadster once again.
Those people also like to keep some vehicles on blocks or just a jack, like me.
That was the front of our house this morning. No worries, kids, just don’t rock the car too roughly while your friend is hiding underneath it.
You may have noticed that our garage door has a giant fucking dent in it.
That’s very astute of you.
No, no, I didn’t come home from happy hour one evening and use the garage door as my brakes, but thanks for going there, jerk.
Another, to remain unnamed person, but who lives in my house and is of driving age and has a uterus and is called mommy sometimes by the kids, left the boys unattended in the aforementioned hubcapless van while it was running for all of 58 seconds before Cool came inside prattling on about the van and the garage door.
“What are you saying, Cool?” Asks Mommy.
“Gman…uh, yeah, Gman did something and the van is trying to roll through the garage door. Yeah, Gman did it.” Cool says.
“What?!” Asks mommy.
“I know, right!?? It’s all Gman’s fault though!” Assures Cool.
So then daddy is all, “What?”
And then daddy was all, “how?”
And then Cool is all, “Look at my face, daddy. I couldn’t have done it.”
And then daddy’s all, “Really?”
And Cool is all, “Really, daddy. Look at him.”
One last time?
So daddy’s all, GAGE DID IT?!!
And then mommy is all, “you’re an idiot. It was Cool.”
“Daddy is very tired from working all the time!” Says daddy to mommy.
“What were you thinking, Cool? Do you even have a brain?” I ask.
“I do have a brain, daddy. See? Mommy had me tested.”
“How many times have we told you to never play with the gear shift or anything else in the car while we leave you unattended with your three year old brother?” I ask.
“Have you ever told him not to drive the van, dear?” I ask. “Because now that he says that, I don’t think I have asked him to not drive our cars yet.”
“No, I’ve never told him to not drive the van.” Says Wife.
“Well then, you win this round, Cool, but please promise you won’t drive any motorized vehicle without consulting your mother or me first, okay?”