What went right today?

Jesus, Garvey - what a topic. Not only do I hate Mondays, I hate everything. That's kind of my thing. I've been the surly guy for quite some time. (Several of my associates are on constant vigil for "Surly Dave". If you're looking for him, invite me to a crowded bar or a poker game. He'll show up real soon.) Sure, I smile and laugh - but everybody knows I'm pissed. I dare you to find pictures of me without my middle finger up. (That's why none of my Senior Portraits made the UB Law wall of fame. Too lewd.)

Sure, I have a lot to be thankful for, and there are a lot of things that I appreciate, but I am not a guy who celebrates the things that go right. Yes, Dave - that is the point of the exercise. Hey man, back off. BufBloPoFo Rule 3: "You can write about anything, but [Garvey will] post a daily topic in case you need some motivation." Ha! My topic today is: why I am not writing that which was suggested. There are to be no comments about all the great things that I should be happy about. I have great friends, I brew my own beer, I have a dog. True, true, true.

But it takes more muscles to frown than to smile, and all of you are lazy. In a wonderful country where (as my friend Schoen points out) you can drink water right out of the taps, where I throw away enough food to make half of Africa weep, where I get pissed because there is nothing to watch on my 800 television channels, where people rarely get killed by their government for complaining or voicing their opinion, where I can get into an automobile and drive for two days without anyone's permission, I choose not to be happy. Being happy is taking the easy way out. Being happy is what any jerk with two working legs and two working arms can do. Posting on his interweb log about how happy he is - that's something that any doofus (who owns his own computer right in his house, and has it connected to the internet, and has the education and intelligence to effectively communicate with a virtually limitless number of people throughout the world) could do.

Fuck man, forget about how sweet your new car is, or that your boss took today off, or that that fingernail that you crushed in the door and it turned black finally fell off. I'm sufficiently psyched every time I sit and reflect about the complex coincidences that fell into place to make any and all of this possible. What ever alien life form accidentally sneezed onto a pod that flew into the ether and caused some big bang which sparked a single cell to divide and mutate into a fish which walked onto land and grew hair and sprouted wings and survived an ice age to end up as me sitting in front of a computer, thinking of words that cause my fingers to dance across hunks of plastic that used to be dinosaurs and transmitting a rambling stream of consciousness out into the world. Fuck, bro. That's what went right today. That kind of shit goes right every day. I don't get particularly excited about the smaller stuff, because I'm still too busy trying to wrap my head around the fucking humongous stuff.

But that's not really what you were looking for, huh? I went to Subway today, and for the first time ever, I ordered a 6 inch sandwich, no cheese, no mayo. I'm a weight-loss god.