I don’t mean to sound sexist in any sense, but I’m increasingly of the opinion that I need a personal assistant more than a girlfriend.
I promise it wouldn’t turn into an Andy Dick situation.
Image credit: David Shankbone
Why’s that? Well, the plain truth is I’m probably more of a bachelor than even bachelors should be. It’s getting that bad around here.
For a variety of reasons (all of them ridiculous), I’ve been a virtual shut-in at the Command Center over the past few days. Consequently I’m running low on not only food, but on things most people don’t normally think about every day, such as contact lens solution and cat litter. Hot water works for contact lens storage in a pinch, but I’m afraid there’s no practical substitute for cat litter.
Neither Djoser nor Sneferu have Kim Jong-il’s bathroom skills.
Image credit: Zennie Abraham
So what do I do? I keep the air filter on, spray Lysol liberally, and wear glasses when I can. I’ll go to the store when I think about it. Unfortunately, “when I think about it” tends to be around 3 a.m. recently. That wouldn’t be a big deal in New York City, but here in Boise it cramps my style a bit.
Meanwhile, lentils and rice are getting old. But hey, at least I have some food around here such as, um … vegan marshmallows? I know my priorities or something!
This is what happens when you take an eight-year-old to Boise Co-op.
Yeah, yeah. I really shouldn’t let these things go. It’s just that my mind is constantly on other matters, most of them not terribly practical. How the hell am I going to keep writing if I constantly have to drop everything to buy goddamn cat litter? That’s how it is with me. Is it logical? Of course not! But it is reality. It would be nice to have someone else around to take care of these things.
Ah, but at least progress was made tonight. A clean cat box and properly stored contact lenses shall return to the Command Center after all … for now.
Now, who’s up for marshmallows?