Wednesday

If Poor Richard's famous adage is to be believed, I'm on track to be a healthy wealthy and wise man, which is good because that makes at least one reason waking up at four forty five isn't totally absurd.

What does someone do when they wake up this early? I will now write it down for you so that you can just read about it instead of doing it yourself.

First you toss and turn, not wanting to believe that's all the sleep you're getting. Then check the clock, boggle, and try to will yourself to sleep again, fail, get up, and hit the switch on the coffee maker. Open the fridge and gaze blankly into it thanks to the marvel that is the light that turns itself on automatically.

Check your torrents. The modem didn't reset during the night, so good for that.

Check your email. Two of my neighbors moved away yesterday but they left a couple of cars in a lot which I more or less inherited their responsibility for administrating, so I have to read their bending-over-backward attempt to get me not to have them towed. I try to imagine what would happen if I treated them the way they would treat me, and fail due to insufficient frame of reference, so I decide to think about it. Their ingenious plan involves me parking on the street till Saturday to give them time to get their cars out of there. Here's why that option sucks: it's called past experience.

The last time I was in charge of a parking space I had a friend in it temporarily. My brother moved to town for a while (the spot was for him) and my friend's car was in the parking spot. I told him to move it but he whined and moaned so much that I had to shake my head and just leave it for the next day. Naturally it snowed a foot that night and since my brother was parked on the street, some non-snow-driving shithead slid into and took out the better part of the back of his car. And it was all because we didn't all just do what I said we should do. Now let's take a look at some of the other harm that's come to cars I've parked in the street.

Slashed tires: 2
Windows smashed with baseball bats: 1
Bumps, dings: countless

I absolutely hate when the only option people leave you with is screwing yourself over.

These people had better live their dream of owning a junkyard somewhere else by the time they say they will. I'll make the sacrifice and park in the street of course; I'm going to give them the time they need and put my car in harm's way even though I pay not to. My money will go toward keeping their cars, which don't even work, away from the tire slashers, drunk drivers, and Louisville-slugging Visigoths. Because I'm a nice guy, and that's what nice guys do.

So that's the play-by-play of my morning so far. Torrents still doing fine. I still haven't watched V for Vendetta. Why do I download files just to have them sit there?

More emails to check. Edit four essays for my brother (different one) who's applying to medical school. Not too much work. If I could just get him to stop putting accountability and responsibility so close together I'd have very little to suggest.

Now it's normal wake-up time, so I'll knock off the gratuitous exhibitionism. Have a great day.

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