We retreat

Nothing gets the day off to a better start then completely forgetting to set your alarm the night before. Nothing screams today is going to a wonderful day like realizing that you have woken up about five minutes after you usually leave for work. This unfortunate occurrence made me forgo my usual morning routine of sipping coffee in the sun and listening to birds singing to one another from opposite branches while squirrels hippity hop on to the....F-ing squirrels.

Anyhow, at moments like that you realize how incredibly fast you actually are getting ready for work. It took me roughly twelve minutes to do the requisite grooming, eat breakfast and make lunch. I mean, if I worked as hard at anything as I did in those twelve minutes I'd probably be the president of something. Sure maybe it would be a club that I made up, but I'd still be president.

I now realize that I can sleep an extra thirty minutes every night and the only thing that I'd be missing is a consistent shower, which are overrated past the age of thirty anyway. I've got better things to do with my time like watch old VCR episodes of Macgyver.
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In other news, I am now officially the lone male in my yoga class. I haven't quite gotten to stretchy pants and doing headstands in the hallway, but I'm waiting for my hairline to recede in order to really get the creepiness going.

Aside: At some point of time in my life I think I must have been capable of opening mail. I no doubt would get a bill from some random company, and I would extract the bill and remit payment in one form or another. I say this because now when S leaves town I let the mail pile up like I'm a twelve year old house sitting for the friendly neighbors. I act as though I have no earthly clue what you do when the water company sends you a bill.

Enactment:
M: Do we need a wizard to do this?
S: No. No. You just need to go upstairs and use online bill payment.
M: At what point do we get the wizard to help us?
S: And then I need you to print the bill out after you pay it online, so we can have it in our records.
M: Does it print magically?
S: I'll do it myself.

Okay, so that's only fifty percent true. However, I blame S as much as myself because she's developed an elaborate filing system worthy of the Hapsburg Empire's family tree. Too obscure? Anyhow, when you have like a ten step process to pay a damn bill it demoralizes a romantic and poetic soul like mine. I think that the bills should pay themselves.

I insist that this tyrannical rule based on elaborate record keeping is a design to keep me from noticing that she's actually funneling money into a Cayman islands bank account. However, I'm too lazy to check. Maybe I'll write a poem about it.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

I found out it would be easier if Elizabeth Barrett Browning just did it instead. I wonder if she pays bill?