This page copyright 1998 The Shrubbery
I've reached the absolute depths of apathy, and sunk to what seems to a low from which there is no redemption.
And were redemption to come, I believe I would shun it, and curse it as a foul demon come to ruin me.
You see, I have been absolved of all responsibility.
I have now spent 10 days in Pittsburgh, in my friend's apartment, without a job, nor a thing that needs to be done. It is glorious, yet pitiful.
I currently spend my days sleeping until 3:00 P.M. I am often awake at noon, but have no desire to open my eyes. So I lie on the couch as J's roomate and his band wonder how I can sleep while they practice.
Finally I wake up, and for two hours, watch Phil play video games, not yet having worked up the will to actually play for myself.
It is after all this time, that a thought pops into my head.
This thought is somwhere along the lines of, "You haven't showered in 4 days."
This %#@!ing, bastard thought is handily defeated by my ace-in-the- hole notion of "I'm not going anywhere today."
Hopefully, I will have remembered to brush my teeth.
It was during one of these points I realized I was not growing a goatee but a new crop of pubic hair, and actually shaved.
I eat but one meal a day, due to the effort it takes to cook up ramen.
On a side note, each night I go to sleep later and thus wake up later, but not in proportionate amounts. If this trend were to continue, I believe I would collapse. I call this the Glowczewski Apathy Effect.
I am looking for a grant to continue my studies. They have taken up much of my time and thus you are reading this column instead of one where I mock fellow Shrubberian (sic?) for his archaic, neo-conservative by way of caveman ways.
At the end of the week I'm expected to GO HOME, and FIND A JOB, and FIX MY CAR.
But someday, someday, I will return to this sick, sick, state of being where my only obstacle is that dark, dark time at 4 in the morning when I've played one too many games of "Marvel Super Heroes", seen one to many epsiodes of The Tick and no one is awake to play me in one more game of "Worms 2."
I shudder in fear at those time, but for the rest, I thirst.
Editor's Note: Mr. Glowczewski has not been absolved of all responsibility. In fact, he was supposed to help with layout this month. He didn't raise a single fat finger on his fat, sweaty hand in three weeks to help us out.
The Other Editor's Note: Mr. Glowczewski's column will furthermore continue under the new name, "I Am A Fat Sweaty Porker-Piglet And I Like To Wear My Mom's Undies, Jason Is A God"