roll with the punches

it's not that i think i have a tick living in my butthole that is the problem. the problem is that i think i have a tick in my butthole and have just accepted it and moved on.

i even named it rick.

there's an animal possibly inside of me and the best efforts i've given at getting it out are sitting down really hard and leaning in different angles while i fart.
that's sort of the way i deal with stuff now, not really letting it get me down and so i move on and go drink a couple beers and throw rocks on the half-frozen lake.

parts of my toes have been numb since may. only one door of my car has a functioning lock. my glasses are held together by superglue in two different places. i sat in dog shit three weeks ago and my jeans are still in the trunk of my car because the cold doesn't make them smell.
i'm really only a few dvds and about 90 dollars from being homeless.

but i've come to realize that i think that's what i like about my life.
i recently just did americorps, a grassroots hippie socialist movement somehow funded by the united states government. in it i did a year long, country-wide tour of manual labor. i roofed houses, sanded maintenance shacks and painted the cafeteria walls of inner city new york schools.

what i also did was step into a world that won't allow me to go back to normal human interaction. meeting up with old friends at thanksgiving sort of brought everything into focus for me. sure everyone had great stories, but most of them were about struggling through their jobs and taking their few chances at excitement, doing very normal things like vacations, hiking, or possibly going back to school.

then this unemployed asshole (read: me) shows up, drinking all of their beer and telling them all stories about how he thinks he has a tick living in his butthole and 'for fun' one night he threw about 15 ears of corn in a worksite port-o-potty. lets get our coats, i think we should leave.
waking up in a daze on thanksgiving morning made things quite apparent of the lifestyle that was mine. i can't escape it if i want to.

i can barely go ten minutes without using the word boner. i don't belong in professional settings.
but i think americorps helped me understand something - i don't want to be in a professional setting. the cliche office job we're led to believe is what we should do after college is good for some, but i've come to realize that i don't need it. an invaluable lesson i learned working with countless numbers of office workers volunteering on the weekends, prisoners to tivo and daytime droning fluorescence.

for some, offices are great. i just guess it depends on which one you're in. but i know that a man shifting around in attempts to remove the wildlife in his anus has no place in an office. no place at all.