Dies Solis


I have an avid appreciation for the invention of the seventh day of the  week. I am told God created the world in six days and rested on Sunday… and rightly so… I too like to follow suit. Whilst my Monday – Saturday aren’t particularly about building the world but rather one that is concerned with sustaining endangered communities (homosapians and otherwise) albeit getting paid for it. As you can imagine sustaining anything of any nature takes a rather strenuous toll on you thus Sundays are for doing fuck all- nothing! Coming to think of it even basic interactions amongst one another should be banned well at least with me!

Sunday is my Sabbath, a day of abstinence from any form of human interaction, work and the general idiocy that occurs Monday – Saturday. This day is solely dedicated to promoting and enhancing secular values of solitude, sanity and self-preservation. On any day I do not appreciate waking/ being woken up early. Those extra seven minutes in bed in between various alarm snoozes are just so darling.

Yup you guessed it I am NOT a morning person. Night person..? Oh yes I have pulled through few mean all-nighters in my lifetime. At my best I managed an all-nighter writing 15000 dissertation due the following day. Obviously at the time I thought this was ingenious and pioneering that a human could produce that many comprehensible words, syntax intact whilst tackling plausible issues put forward in my thesis.

In retrospect, however, this has left me wondering WHAT IF I persecuted this piece of work like any normal functioning human being months in advance..?! The possible (and probably the most truthful) answer that I would have achieved higher marks than I did haunts me. Nonetheless, in my defence this reckless ingenious act could only concur that I am still an extra ordinary human with an extraordinary abilities (blowing my own trumpet and all that beautiful jazz). Needless to add that those extraordinary abilities only surface after the 9pm watershed.

Suspending my frivolous digression and coming back to the topic at hand… What was I even blabbing on about?! Damn you fish memory (scrolls upwards to refresh one’s senile memory).

Oh yes Sundays! What a delight they are to endure but what an endurance they become if the machination for a lazy Sunday aren’t upheld. The only effort I am prepared to undertake on such a day is lifting my arms to grab the remote control beside me to press the pause or the fast forward buttons. Which makes me wonder how people got through life without the invention of the pause and the fast forward buttons because frankly, I don’t want to waste my prevailing laziness on enduring nonsensical advertisements about equally nonsensical things. In the words made famous by a hypochondriac African-American with a deliberating bronchitis caught in a house fire “ain’t nobody got time for that”!!!

I couldn’t have possibly put it better myself. I would have reconsidered the double negative syntax in which the phrase is presented in, but hey … that is Americans for you! (I am only saying). Nonetheless, she gets my countenance.

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