There are days like any other, predictable and comfortable. Like waking on your own on a Saturday morning, with no hangover despite copious amounts of consumed wine the night before. Eyelids slowly opening to see a breakfast tray beside you, adorned with a single rose and a neatly folded napkin, your lover waiting patiently to spoon feed you bits of syrup soaked pancake.
Then there are days so miserable and pathetic that you want to cut off all your hair, throw your phone in a nearby body of water (a toilet works), flip your wife the bird and hope all those days at the treadmill afford you the strength to chase down a moving train and hop aboard … bound for wherever hobos go in old movies.
I’m not saying I’m having a really, really bad day but there might be scissors and some pink Nike shoes in my backpack.
Unfortunately for me I don’t own a breakfast tray, I don’t remember buying napkins at the grocery last time I went and I haven’t had pancakes since the last time Denny’s served them to me while I was wearing sunglasses.
Inside. At 10 am.
Because if you drink that much wine you will have a hang over … just like the last time. Dummy.
So here I sit, on a Monday, procrastinating. Contemplating returning that text that will undoubtedly start a fight.
Considering dumping my phone in the ladies room but will undoubtedly regret it later.
Scanning Pinterest for ideas about how to make a hobo hanky on a stick that will match my escape outfit.
*FYI that stick is called a “bindle” … thanks eHow for clearing that up for me. http://www.ehow.com/how_8193614_make-hobo-bag-stick.html
A girl has to be stylish even when fleeing from reality. I think I will pass on the hair cutting but I do need a change. Sleep and pancakes would probably be a good start. If that doesn’t work my next blog may just be from the train.