Irrelevant

‘Don’t stop and think about it, just do it.’ That’s what I’ve
always been told. Think, plan, do? Identify, consecrate, flabbergast? Where’s
the cowbell, though? Why doesn’t life have a rule book? There’s no
app for that, I don’t think. Think. Stop thinking; thinking is not productive.
Follow the well-beaten path and place one foot in front of the other, all
the while, careful not to examine your surroundings, or take any step off
of the path. It’s a good path. I like it, so should you. We should all
follow this path because it’s safe. Follow me, I’m the leader. But
it’s half past noon, I should really wake up now.

     “Wake up, Chris!” my dog shouted. That couldn’t be right. Either
way, I instantly sat up in bed fully awake and alert. I frolicked to my
cell phone to reiterate my agenda. No! It was Tuesday morning, around nine
–thirty at night. Stumbling, I stood up and got dressed, careful to brush
every tooth with the same amount of bristles in a perfect circular motion.
To examine the specifics, I drew an equation in the steamy mirror- where
my shampoo was the constant. My third grade science fair project had proven
a useful funneling of energy in my career as a student. I completely forgot
which one I did in third grade, though content with the belief that it
had helped somehow. I rubbed my eyes, turning the door handle and what,
to my surprise. I gazed upon a six foot tall warrior made of glass. He
fumed at me, thoroughly annoyed at my bathroom routine. What a fixture
indeed- he required aid with cleaning his own musket. So I cleaned the
musket, polished it right up. I fired it and missed the fish bowl clearly,
but the weapon was in fine condition. I patted him on the back, eager to
display my altruism. He grunted, slung the weapon across his shoulder,
and spat on the floor directly. This was no invitation. And at that moment
in time, I became distinctly aware of the situation. I cleaned his weaponry
to receive an unkempt saliva projectile upon my home territory. Why cleaned
I such an item, finding that it went unrecognized?  I KNEW I should have
waxed the beehive. I knew it.