The very important and glamorous life I lead

I don't want you to get me wrong, because my life is a constant whirlwind of soirees and wingdings, I mean I'm really just floating from one fete to another, that is, when I'm not at very crucial conferences and business meetings where we discuss prospectuses (prospecti?) and where we munch on talking points dipped in idea jelly however I have been sitting here for an hour trying to find the motivation to take a shower and I can't find it. I think my butt and legs have actually become one with this computer chair. Maybe I'll just roll myself and my new chair shaped lower half into the shower, except that would involve maneuvering around the suitcase which is cutting off the egress and yess, I just used a big word on purpose and jesus motherfucking fuck must the phone ring all the time from people who don't leave a message? I think they are telemarketers. Anyway, back to how I'm not able to roll past my suitcase—I was reading this thing that said that when you move into a new apartment you should unpack the night you move in or else you're destined to live among boxes—I am a poignant and quite easy on the eyes illustration of this—but it's like, unpack your whole apartment? I can't even unpack my suitcase the night I get home. I used to be able to though. Back when I lived in an apartment that wasn't cluttered with unpacked crap. See how it's all connected? I bet if I lived in an apartment where everything was neat and tidy and in its place then I would unpack my suitcase right away and then I would already be showered. God, I gutter at what could have been. I shudder at what could have been? Instead here I am, beached on a computer chair in my own filth, dreaming of an orderly life and wondering if I should have made a joke about egrets up there. The birds. Oh and for those who are upset that I was only on Red Eye for 20 mins last night, thank you for your outpouring of vexation and I'll be on for the whole hour on May 1. Hopefully I will have showered by then.