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Earlier this week, I wrote a column that struck some nerves. It was about hobbies, and my incredulousness towards people that have them. I talked about how most of my free time was used drinking, vegging on the couch, and drinking some more. Most of the readers understood that this was a tongue-in-cheek piece written for a humor website, and like most of my writing, was not anchored in truth. However, some readers were not amused.
I received salty comments about people arguing that their dedication to fitness was a hobby (it’s not) and that my life must be sad and pathetic (it is). I even received comments worrying about my alcohol consumption and saying that “all of my columns are about me drinking too much.” I replied that my boring day-to-day life wouldn’t make riveting content, and was told that, in fact, it would be relatable and people would want to read it. So here it is. For everyone that has enjoyed my writing in the past, I’ll spare you. Don’t read this column. My daily life is boring as shit. But for all the haters that are worried about how I spend my time, enjoy this article about nothing.
Today, I woke up at 8:30 a.m. My alarm went off while I was in the middle of a dream about escaping some kind of dinosaur enclosure? I’m not sure; it’s hard to remember now. I got up, and after sitting on the edge of my bed for five minutes (to check social media/let my back loosen up), I took a shower and got dressed.
I was on the train by 9:04 a.m., and took the Brown Line to the Red Line to get to my office. My train car wasn’t too packed, and it didn’t smell like anyone had recently shit themselves on it, which was nice. Once I got to work, I was immediately tossed into back-to-back meetings until noon. I didn’t even get to eat my normal breakfast of one (1) small bag of salted almonds.
The meetings were fine. I found out that a client didn’t like any of the campaigns we presented, but couldn’t tell us why they didn’t like it. The phrases “humanity,” and “high-level thinking” were thrown around a bunch. My boss and I shared several pointed looks and rolled eyes.
For lunch, I walked to the grocery store and grabbed a small salad for a mere $2.50. Mixed in with some 0-carb dressing and steak I had cooked on Monday, and it made for a healthy and somewhat enjoyable meal. As enjoyable as a three dollar salad gets, I guess. Just like every day, I received several comments about “eating like a rabbit,” and “being too skinny to eat a salad” from my midwestern coworkers. Midwesterners get offended by people being healthy. I still remember the butthurt comments I got when I mentioned that I work out most days a week. It’s weird.
In the afternoon, I wrote the newest installment to the Getting Back In The Game series. I really enjoy making the Eric overthink and fuck up every situation. Can’t get enough of it. That poor, dumb idiot. I also fired out a couple of solid tweets, including this one that’s doing pretty good numbers (for me).
Wouldn't it be great if regular jobs worked like sports teams? Your boss would just roll into your office one day and be like sorry you've been traded. You're now a plumber in Des Moines. Society would collapse but it would be a funny few months. Anyway enjoy your Wednesday
— No (@noampao) August 29, 2018
At 5:01 on the dot, I packed up and left the office. My boss sarcastically asked if I was going to lunch, and I jokingly told him I was quitting. We like to have fun around here. My normal 30-minute commute took an extra fifteen minutes due to the rain, and I arrived home at 5:45 p.m. with wet shoes and socks. Not ideal, but I soldiered on.
I shot the shit with my roommate for a couple minutes as I changed into gym clothes and drank a protein shake. He has a cold, which means I’ll have a cold soon. That fucker. I told him to wipe down the apartment with Lysol and quarantine himself to his room. He told me to fuck off. We have a good time. Then, it was gym time. I’m resting my entire upper body due to elbow and shoulder issues because I’m a 26-year-old trapped in the body of a octogenarian. Therefore, legs it was. I’m pleased to announce I’m back up to squatting 135 lbs., my most since my hip surgery last fall, and able to do box jumps again. After I tired myself out, I jogged home (which sounds more impressive than it is, considering my gym is literally three blocks from my house), and got started on dinner. I made some kind of fiesta bowl with cauliflower rice, ground turkey, corn, beans, guacamole, and salsa, and finished right as my girlfriend arrived. She tried to ask for the last bite, and I laughed in her face. Nick doesn’t share food.
She, I, and my roommate all hung out and talked/watched Netflix together (shout out Jim Jefferies’ new special), for about an hour until it was time for bed. I asked my girlfriend if I could write about our sex life, but she said no, so we cuddled and read bible scriptures to each other until we fell asleep. Well, until she fell asleep. I stayed up and wrote this stupid column for people with no sense of humor.