The Wreckoning

It's not a typo, asshole. I'm trying to be deep. Just go with it. I haven't done this in awhile, which is an understatement, I realize. Shit, since I rejoined society about three months ago I haven't done anything in awhile...except work. No need to qualify your snicker with a comment -- I know how absurd it sounds. I guess the main reason for my lack of postage can be summed up by the simple fact that I can only write when I'm drunk in the middle of the night, and I haven't been drunk in the middle of the night in quite some time. In short, the two-headed monster known as reality and responsibility is killing Drunken Capps.

Drunken Capps now survives only in short spurts of excellence these days. I was "keeping it real" by drinking every night straight through the first six weeks of this new job. After awhile though, I found myself placing a premium on being in bed before 11 o'clock. Without realizing it, I'd become just like all the people I railed against during my 21-month hiatus from the world. You'd think this realization would've freaked me the fuck out, because conforming is not even something I'd realized I was doing as it happened. My new mindset snuck up on me completely out of the blue. What stuck with me after the initial shock is how comfortable I was with the whole thing.

Is this what getting older means? I find myself -- gulp -- trying to get ahead. It's something I think about now. The other day I got all excited because my boss told me I was doing a better job than expected and as such would be giving me extra responsibility earlier than the company's timetable called for. The fuck? Who am I and what have I done with Drunken Capps?

On a side note, I made an interesting find relating to the human psyche the other day. The necessary background info is that I have a management position at a sales and marketing company which calls for almost no clerical work. However, about once every two weeks I need to spend a half an hour making copies of shit I need to give to my employees. A couple days ago I was in front of the copier and and I noticed I had an erection. Then I realized I had an erection every time I was in front of the copier. At first I was at a loss as to why this was, but then I realized it's because when I was 18 I had a temp job where I spent most of my days making copies next to some thirty-something woman I found extremely attractive. At such a tender age, this woman must have really left an impression on me, because as soon as I made the connection in my mind the other day it became instantly apparent that there could be no other explanation for the phenomenon. Ten years later and I still have this knee jerk physiological reaction. I dunno, I found it interesting.

Anyway...wow lemme take a step back from this nonsense for a second. I am goddamn drunk right now! It always happens this way...I decide to keep it chill with a night in, which invariably leads to a fucking alcoholic waterfall by the time I decide to blog for you fruits. In fact, I'd venture to say I get less drunk when I'm out in public. I should just always go out rather than stay in. It'd save me the hangover and requisite liver damage. If you thought these posts were pre-arranged you're kidding yourself. We're flying by the seat of our pants, baby! I hope you appreciate it.

OK, let's wrap this up. I just read this whole thing over and it's a fucking mess. Am I always this bad or can I claim cobwebs? Hopefully it's the wear of not posting for a long while. Regardless: something prescient about Drunken Capps being related to general responsibility and how it justifies the "clever" title The Wreckoning. Kill Yourselves.