The sun has set now and darkness envelopes the houses here in Winnipeg. Another day has gone by and I have managed to get very little done. Here is a profile of my day...7am get up..drink juice, eat bread, go back to sleep...8am get up again...move to couch for morning Daily Planet, fall asleep again, 9am wake up for the third time and get in the shower. Then I work through a series of different tasks based on my day and somewhere around 10pm I start thinking about hitting the hay.
Some days are good days. Not today mind you. I woke up and continued some work I'm doing on my house. Moving furniture around etc...also spring cleaning. Well first thing off, I got a charlie horse in my calf. So I spent most of the day limping around.
And then there are the
constantly attacking rodents. I call them that because I have no use for them. I am talking about the phone solicitors..."Mr Brou..lond, I'm calling to tell you that upon approval you can have our new Gagillionaire Master Card with Air Miles, Club Z points, Disney Bucks and Canadian Tire money all for the low price of more money than you make per year." I usually tell them I'm not interested and then they ask why.
I want to tell them that it's because they are part of the global conspiracy to enslave the planet and further the gap between the rich and poor and that accepting their credit card would be giving into their plan and succuming to the slow dirt nap that awaits us all when we have finished our labours for those more entitled than we.
I want to tell them that unlike the rest of the planet I have chosen to live on the money I make, not the credit I can get. I will own my life. I will own my things. No bank or finance company will own my assets.
I want to tell them that I have called the exterminator and that soon they will join the rest of the
constantly attacking rodents in the depths of hell where they belong.
But what I do instead is hang up. Because in the end I know that the person on the phone is just trying to grind out enough money to pay for the car, the house, the cell phone and the tickets to Celine Dion that they just had to have. They don't really care if I get the card or not. They just can't give in because the real rodents, the rodents who own the banks and the credit card companies, the rodents who have a special place reserved for them in hell are listening. And if they don't continue to offer me the card then they might be fired. So I hang up.
Somedays I don't even want a phone.
