i'm writIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGG
i'm typing it up; i'll spread it around
and if you don't hate me you'll pretend that I'm down
Yeah, so that head cold I talked about last time? Pussy shit. I got another one that put me on my ass. Right out! I spent a good five days in utter delirium. Abject delirium. I never take time off work. Do you know I broke a rib a dozen or so months ago, and didn't miss an hour of work? (Y'know it's not a desk job.) Well this bitch cold had me take my tuesday off. I was a wreck. There was no pretending.
But I'm good. It's time to get my weight back, and get strong again. I biked to work today, and sure it burned, but there's no easy way to build endurance. No shortcuts to perserverence. If there is you motherfuckers are holding out on me.
It's a good time of year for me to be struggling to get back. Really, St. Patrick's Day is pretty much the only holiday I really give a fuck about. Listening to folks from other regions makes it sound like it's not a major holiday in a lot of areas, but around here it's at least as big as thanksgiving. We do have a huge irish population (of which I am a proud member), and I suspect it being a working-class city could contribute to the enthusiasm found in the "another excuse to drink" category. The more political science I read, the more I hear the poor embrace escapism.
But yeah, I'm huge on Paddy's Day. And so is everyone else. At work we're running a special (all week, every year) of corned beef and cabbage, that comes with carrots and little salt potatoes. It outsells every other item all week, every year. In the right circles it's more succinctly described as "boiled irish dinner". It's fucking delicious, and I eat it every day, twice. Even my boss, who is directly from greece, can't help but get into the spirit. When he demonstrates to a new line cook how to construct the plate, he makes sure to load it up to even more superhuman degrees than he'll allow the rest of us. The owner of the restaurant will habitually explicate "The rest of the year the people feed me, but this week WE FEED THE PEOPLE!" It's a beautiful thing.
My personal tradition is to get a large bottle of Jameson, and finish it before Saint's day is over. This year it's a Tuesday. Since I work Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'm basically already prepared for people to get angry with me at some point very soon. Of course it would be in their best interest to pick a time when the whiskey is not in full effect, but as far as I'm concerned that's a flip of the coin. They know I'm on holiday.
and if you don't hate me you'll pretend that I'm down
Yeah, so that head cold I talked about last time? Pussy shit. I got another one that put me on my ass. Right out! I spent a good five days in utter delirium. Abject delirium. I never take time off work. Do you know I broke a rib a dozen or so months ago, and didn't miss an hour of work? (Y'know it's not a desk job.) Well this bitch cold had me take my tuesday off. I was a wreck. There was no pretending.
But I'm good. It's time to get my weight back, and get strong again. I biked to work today, and sure it burned, but there's no easy way to build endurance. No shortcuts to perserverence. If there is you motherfuckers are holding out on me.
It's a good time of year for me to be struggling to get back. Really, St. Patrick's Day is pretty much the only holiday I really give a fuck about. Listening to folks from other regions makes it sound like it's not a major holiday in a lot of areas, but around here it's at least as big as thanksgiving. We do have a huge irish population (of which I am a proud member), and I suspect it being a working-class city could contribute to the enthusiasm found in the "another excuse to drink" category. The more political science I read, the more I hear the poor embrace escapism.
But yeah, I'm huge on Paddy's Day. And so is everyone else. At work we're running a special (all week, every year) of corned beef and cabbage, that comes with carrots and little salt potatoes. It outsells every other item all week, every year. In the right circles it's more succinctly described as "boiled irish dinner". It's fucking delicious, and I eat it every day, twice. Even my boss, who is directly from greece, can't help but get into the spirit. When he demonstrates to a new line cook how to construct the plate, he makes sure to load it up to even more superhuman degrees than he'll allow the rest of us. The owner of the restaurant will habitually explicate "The rest of the year the people feed me, but this week WE FEED THE PEOPLE!" It's a beautiful thing.
My personal tradition is to get a large bottle of Jameson, and finish it before Saint's day is over. This year it's a Tuesday. Since I work Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I'm basically already prepared for people to get angry with me at some point very soon. Of course it would be in their best interest to pick a time when the whiskey is not in full effect, but as far as I'm concerned that's a flip of the coin. They know I'm on holiday.