The Time For Our Attack Has Come.

 

 

I burnt rice last night. I burnt the living shit out of it. I would wonder how, but I think I know. The heightened potency of California medicinal strains puts Washington to shame, one. I read somewhere that eating right before you go to bed does one good, two. I did the living daylights out of my taxes at the very last minute, three. Worn down by the vicious heat, four. Taken as a whole it was a perfect storm of kick my ass and somewhere between the time the rice started to simmer and mapo tofu started to braise I passed the fuck out.

I woke up a few hours later and there was a distinct aroma in the air and I knew immediately what I had done. The pan was mercifully unharmed although the rice was inedible the tofu was succulent and perfectly done so as seeing as supper was ready I disposed of the rice and whipped up some easy ramen, got down to business and then passed out again.

This morning I awoke well rested, but famished. I arrived for the bus just in time to see the worst aspects of humanity is action. An old man with a cane shoving a big lady in special shoes for a better seat on the bus. I arrived at the office just in time to see smarty pants know-it-all-iness kick and flail like a dying animal in a cubical and here I am waiting for my lunch. More succulent braised tofu from last night.