At the End of the Day…

This morning you woke up earlier than you hoped because you had to pee.  You wish you hadn’t had anything to drink the night before so closed to bedtime because this ALWAYS happens.  You let your dog(s) or cats(s) outside so they could do the same and then you went back to bed to try and get another 45 minutes of sleep before getting up to shower and get ready for work.

That didn’t work out so well, because, shit, you’re already wide awake and the sun is shining through the window and there is no hope of falling asleep again.  You go pour yourself a bowl of cereal and tell the dogs to stop begging and get lost while you watch the news in your living room.  You shower, gaze at the gray chest hair that has mysteriously appeared overnight (or if you’re a female, you’ve noticed how your breasts are sagging just a bit more than they did yesterday).  There is always something to lament over.

If you have a job, you go to work and work to keep your job so that you can afford the odd outing to a Chinese buffet or maybe adding the sports package to your satellite tv plan so you can see the Cowboys game that no one else cares about but you.  If you don’t have a job, you going out looking for one between having a coffee and going to the food bank to feed yourself or your family.

When you get home, there’s another episode of “Law and Order” to watch (if you’re over 55) or “The Walking Dead” if you’re under 30.    Those in between are probably surfing the internet for porn and quickly alt-tab when their significant others walk into the room.

By this point in the day I hope you’ve let the dogs outside to pee again.  Maybe you’ve thrown the ball 23 times to the other end of the yard so they can bring it back to you.

You come inside and make yourself a meal that in no way aids in the lowering of your cholesterol level, but, damn it, it was satisfying.  The dogs beg because their $79 per 35lb bag of kibble is never enough.

After the dogs or your kids settle down for the night, you succumb to your guilty pleasure of watching yet another show about the zombie apocalypse or a reality show about morbidly obese women who hoard so much that her family has to sleep in their utility closet.

You put your pajamas on (your “pajam-bams”), take your final dump on the can while reading email on your smart phone.  Maybe a round of “angry birds” before wiping and then brushing your teeth.

You walk past your kid’s room (if you have any) and tell them to turn off the radio because damn it, they have a test tomorrow.  The dogs get to go out one last time for a final pee.  You dread tomorrow because it’s not friday.  Gas prices are high and it’s time to fill the tank.  The credit card bills are due.  You get your test results back from the doctor.  You’ll find out that a 16 year old broke his neck snowboarding.

Two men got married to each other today, and you never knew it.  You didn’t get their names.  Two women got married to each other today, and you never knew it.  Never got their names, either.  And yet, your life continues.

Everything I mentioned above happens to everyone, gay or straight, almost every single day.

How about that?

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