Cleanliness is Next To Godliness
Whether you believe in god or not, there's something to this saying, trite as it might be.
I have a lot more to write on this topic, and I will. But for now, suffice it to say that the past few days ended perfectly and thusly:
After having spent the weekend with NJ during which we behaved like college students and being mothered much more than I deserve, I had to drop my car off at a dealership because it was leaking gasoline. Since this apparently is "dangerous," I figured I'd better do something.
Anyway, I called a cab to get home so I could work. Most cabs in Chicago are very clean, neat, and nice smelling -- even if the cab driver smokes. This was the only occasion in recent or even long-term memory in which I got a third-world cab that stunk of 17-day old body odor and ... weird food smells.
I had to open the window and not quite, but almost, push my face out the window like a dog in summer just survive the ride home. It felt unsafe to breathe, and I'm surprised I made it to my apartment in any sort of conscious state. I didn't tip well, which is unusual for me, and as I watched the departing cab, I could see the greenish fumes emanating from its stinky driver and interior.
There is a point to all of this which will be revealed later. But let's just say that maybe, once in a while, things do happen for a reason.
posted by MC @ 5:00 PM
6 Comments:
Oh! I'd recognize those green fumes anywhere. Your cabbie was Franny Smythe, the most fartingest gal in Pleasantview. I didn't realize she could carpool all the way to YourTown. Did you hit the mute button so you didn't have to hear the flies buzzing?
No, I alt-tabbed to my apartment as fast as possible.
I care what you think.
Now, get busy and start thinking. And writing. And singing! and watching movies! and singing!
Cuz you are a multi talented boy.
Go to Coffee's "Fun-N-Easy Way To Post Pictures" post and get busy. I want to see: the couch. The pit of wires. Behind the piano. the clean towels on the rack int he bathroom. Your new boudoire. With the bed made. And the fouton cover ON.
If I didn't think HB would leave me, I'd be back down to finish up, mister. Your "study" is next.
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
I'm too busy working and enjoying your and Coffee's blogs to bother with my own.
Also, the study is half-way done, mostly because I find it very, very easy to clean and organize as opposed to, say, figuring out how to make my own version of an internet spam and virus notification and filtering system because I agreed to at the rate of about eight cents an hour.
So, if I don't post much, it's because I'm very, very, very busy wrestling with abstract concepts and implementing design across multiple domains as I implement a customized, customer-facing decision support and knowledge tool.
Or I'm mopping.
Oh, Jesus. Or is that Tschesuhs? If you're truly bogged down with work, just do what I do: copy comeone's post onto your composematron dashboard, and replace random strings of text with gibberish. Hey, it works! I've had 8,374 hits today, and only 8,372 of them were me!
I am catching on like wildfire, and you can too!
I've been in one cab in my lifetime. I was small, I don't remember it much. I have, however, been victim to the stench of passing strangers a time or two. Makes me wish I had participated more seriously in that game of holding ones breath for as long as possible as a kid. Those skills come in handy at times...
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