I’m in full-out pre-wedding mode. And that means multi-tasking no matter how much I’d prefer to avoid it. For example, at about 1 am this morning I cleaned the cat box but didn’t have time to take the neatly bundled bag of poop all the way to the garage. It was an impressive load. We have two hippo-sized felines and I didn’t have time to clean the box yesterday.
So I left the massive bag at the top of the stairs to remind me to finish the delivery when I left in the morning. Then I went to bed. So far, so good.
This morning I lugged the bag downstairs and realized that today is garbage day, and the cans are full to overflowing. No problem – I’ll just use the garbage can at my office.
At this point you should know that my morning routine involves waking around 6 a.m., grabbing a banana from the kitchen and walking the 47 seconds from my home to my office down the street.
This morning we were out of bananas. So I grab a yogurt and a plastic spoon in my right hand, the massive load-o-poop in the other, and stagger out the front door, operating on about 7 hours of sleep in two days. I’m so tired that I literally can’t walk a straight line. I probably look drunk, and I’m hoping the neighbors aren’t awake, because if you see a guy carrying a load of crap in one hand and his breakfast in the other, that’s how you’ll remember him for the rest of your life.
At some point, probably about 32 seconds into my commute, it dawned on me that I had inadvertently become a metaphor for life in general. Life is half delicious yogurt, half crap, and your job is to keep the plastic spoon in the yogurt.