#42. No thank you, today, August 23rd.

The best part about days like these is they end. Which is selfish because how many people would die to be alive today? (Huh?)

I’d rather not get into the details for the sake of this post. So for my sake, I will take Emerson’s advice…

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

But my day’s not done yet. See… I’m still typing. So that means I can still wallow.

Waahhhhhhhh looooooowwwwww. In my lowest bass. (Are there degrees of bass? Isn’t it by definition the lowest tone of a male voice?)

How weird is it that wallow spelled out phonetically includes the onomatopoeia, “wah,” and the word “low,” as in “I was so low today that I wanted to wah.” I didn’t, but I wanted to. There, I said it. (Do I get extra points if I wanted to cry but didn’t? Should I have just cried while I was down there?)

I don’t remember the last time I cried but I’m an emotional fellow which portends tears sometimes. I’m still cool, right? I’m still a dude. It’s dude-y, right? Which is a homonym for doody. Coincidence, probably not.

Today’s mishigas wasn’t even my doing. But I felt like I paid for it. I let other people’s nonsense creep in my mind. We all have those days. Today was my turn.

I’ll come out ahead in the long run. I do believe that.

It’s just been one of those days where the trees through forest thingie… nuh — uh.

Good night. See you tomorrow. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.