As I drunkenly barrel roll out of bed this morning, alone I might add. I reach for my pants to check if my phone is there, praying my bank account didn’t overdraft. Oh No! shit, shit shit balls. My pants are soaking wet. It’s okay, maybe you spilled beer on yourself. No, the room was hotter than the plains of Africa. you must have had a heavy sweat. Then, with one quick smell check, my looming fear which I knew all along came true. The tinkle fairy had visited me once more. I peed my pants. I’d be lying if I told you this was the first time. Really, in my collegiate hay day it was quite common, everyone was doing it. Normally, I find the karmic lubrication to force this embarrassing deed out of my mind forever. However, this time was different. Oh that’s, right, today I turned 25. 25, the year you’re supposed to have your shit together and here I am pissing my pants like a fucking toddler. Snicker away you judgmental mortals.The quarter century saga doesn’t stop there. Being my phone was lodged into my pocket and the golden fluid of mine soaked my entire body…. My phone was now submerged in urine. Panic not, this is not my first rodeo. Just another classic case of phone drowned by pee.
As my phone dries out in a bag of brown rice which I know never works, depression overcomes me. Today is my 25th birthday and I am covered in Pee like some extra in an R Kelly music video.
Anxiety now kicks in. what am I going to tell my boss? How the hell will I work all week without a phone? I sure as shit can’t afford another one. What will my grandma think when I can’t answer her annual birthday call?
After a short lived panic attack, the hangover now kicks in. Oh good god, why is this so much worse than my other 4,087 hangovers. That’s right son, you’re now 25 and hangovers are eternal.
As I lay phone-less, pant less, possibly jobless and essentially lifeless, my first life crisis had taken over. The majority of my friends are getting engaged, living with their significant others, moving up in the world and most certainly not peeing themselves. Mother always did say I was different than my peers.
After, downing a hot and ready pizza, by myself, I made a pact to myself: I will never break my phone from drunkenly urinating on it. 3 weeks later, that pact was broken.
Here’s to 25, the worst year of your life.
Categories: Cubicle Chatter