Taking a Quick Breather

It was a rainy day in La Crosse on Monday. Which was strange, because it usually doesn't happen that way. Usually, it doesn't get rainy here until it's already dark, until about 10 p.m. or later. Sure, it will drizzle during the day, but it usually never goes into a full downpour until late.

I think I may have spoken too soon, though. It was raining around 9 a.m., but it's turned back to a mild drizzle since. I'm not really sure why I care, or why you should care, but it just seems interesting.

I was exhausted by Sunday night of this week, which usually isn't a good sign for what Monday is going to be like. I didn't even write Monday's column until about midnight on Sunday, just because I didn't want to deal with it. My mind was too overloaded with the thought of trying to do my newspaper job, write columns every day and practice for the play I'm in every night without having one of the three collapse into rubble.

So I took a breather. I sat in the dark and watched the rain outside. Yes, it was raining last night, too. I listened to some quiet stuff on the record player and relaxed. It was nice–not the next morning when I was woke up exhausted from staying up too late, but before then–and it helped get me in a column-writin' mood.

You have to get in some sort of mood if you're going to spend time each night writing about rabid bats, monkey outhouses and fictional cologne that you've named after yourself. Oy!

But the column is good. It takes my mind off work, off the fact that no one I call to interview ever calls me back, and that deadline is Tuesday and I have no feature photos. Maybe a brawl will start at the City Council meeting, and I can do a fistfight photo page.

Sigh. Nothing cool like that ever happens here.

We don't cover any world news, we don't cover any La Crosse news, we just cover the mundane details of daily life in The Newspaper's City, Minn. I wouldn't be too surprised if I came in next week and was asked me to sit outside the beauty parlor and do a feature story on the new hairdos.

Actually, that's a lie. We don't have a beauty parlor. Women either have to go to La Crosse or find something else to color their hair with. I imagine that chocolate pudding might work, as would vanilla pudding. Pudding seems the right shade for hair coloring. That is, if you don't mind having pudding in your hair. It probably smells nice.

"Old man Republican" just walked in. He's the guy whose mug was on a recent edition of this site's Photo Special section. Every Monday he comes in with a letter to the editor that bashes Democrats. It's funny, really. He does what most Americans with strong party affiliations do: picks out the bad stuff the other side does and complains about it, completely ignoring the fact that every public official ever elected has skeletons in their closet, Democrat, Republican or Green Party.

But every week he comes in with a letter, and my highly liberal editor must read it right there while the old man watches. I think most of us hope that we'll have more to do when we reach that age. Unfortunately, we probably won't.

So speaking of that, what can I do now? It's Monday night, I'm finishing up the last few paragraphs of this column, and I have to work in the morning. But what if I didn't have to work in the morning, reader? I could be out doing exciting things if I didn't have to work. I could be reporting to you all about these newfound exciting things! That's it, I'm starting the "Give Paul Ryan a million dollars" fund.

With the million dollars I'll most certainly attain from my highly wealthy and loyal readers, I'll have time to add a lot more features to this site. Hell, I'll even write two columns a day. Open your wallet, damnit! Open it! Out with the million dollars! I'm a hardcore Democrat, but with a cool million in my bank account, that will certainly change. Give me a million dollars, America! Turn me into a stereotypical Republican!

This column paid for by the George W. Bush Superfriends Propaganda group.