A few things that are going on with me:
-In five weeks, my lease is up. WTF.
-"You dont have to go home, but you cant stay here" has basically been the message from my boss. Dont worry, buddy. The feeling is mutual.
-I've been offered a job in my same corporation but a different company in Baltimore. No diff in pay.
-I dont know what the eff to do with my life.
So I've been putting together life plans. Here's my favorite.
Age 26: Crap job, no savings, single and owns a cat
Age 27: Finds job in sales, sucks at it for awhile, adopts another cat in silent desperation. Still single.
Age 28: Start bringing in the Benjamins and kills debt. Meets potential love of life, but he's allergic to cats. Leaves me for a girl who owns two yorkshire terriers and a cockatiel.
Age 29: Finally works way up to top of sales chain; however, screws up a premier deal and is let go of company. Waitresses at Applebees to get by. Develops staph infection from a cat scratch and goes into medical debt. I now have to wear an eye patch. Decides to start breeding hamsters as a financial booster.
Age 30: Accidentally develops a breed of hamster that smells like grape soda and poops candy. No hamster sells for less than 5 grand a pop. Things are looking good! Meets attractive man who shares affinity for hamster culture. Fall in love, move in to double wide together on .23 peaceful acres.
Age 31: Learns man is a spy for another hamster operation. He steals vials of precious hamster DNA from a freezer like the guy in Jurassic Park. Hamster business quickly deflates due to competition and an FDA finding that the hamster poop candy is carcinogenic. Faces multiple lawsuits. Back to square one. 2 cats becomes 6 cats this year and still owns 132 un-sellable hamsters. Drinks obscene amount of Maui Wowey-flavored wine coolers.
Age 32: Awoken at 2:17 in the morning by a man in a white spandex body suit with something appearing to be hovering over his head. He announces that within my womb is the next coming of Jesus, whom I shall name Damien. Tries to convince me that "The Omen" was just a coincidence. I throw my alarm clock at him and turn on the light, realizing that its just the methhead from two trailers down completely naked wearing a beer helmet. I swear off the wine coolers.
Age 33: A tornado hits the double wide and rips off the roof. I now have 173 hamsters and 9 cats. All are sucked away except for The Wizard who permanently implants his claws into my right thigh. The hamsters are blown within a 100 mile radius and begin reproducing like crazy. The governor declares a state of emergency and Westboro church pickets that "Candy Shitting Hamster plague is the first sign of the apocalypse."
That's all I have. I hope its helpful for others looking to plan their lives. Fingers crossed that it can at least be that interesting.
0 comments:
Post a Comment