The Early Bird

I wake up early. I open my eyes and I say, "I'm awake. But it's still dark out. But I'm awake." At times like these, I think I would have been a diligent farmer had I chosen to be a farmer instead of...

Since it's so early, there are many possibilities. I can go in so many directions that thinking about them is already a direction I've chosen to go. I could look for a new job. Yes, I guess I could. I could do that and find a job and have money to pay rent and have money for dog food. And food for myself.

I could walk the dogs. I could take tiny steps so that I'd walk a long time but cover a very short distance. That way, after an hour or so, I could say to the dogs, "We've walked for so long. The apartment must be so far, far away." Then, I could turn around and say, "Why! There it is! Just twenty feet from us!" And the dogs would bark in unison, maybe, or not. But they would wag their tails as we jogged the five seconds back to the apartment. That sounds so nice.

Maybe, I could construct a butter stand. Not a lemonade stand. But a butter stand. I could yell, "Butter! Butter! Get your delicious, cool, homemade butter!" I could make butter on a stick or maybe butter patties. But butter on a stick would sell much better than butter patties, in my honest opinion.

Then, I could finish off the day by putting down a beer or two or three or four or five. I could call Ronny. We could play chess. I could make pancakes. Delicious pancakes and say, "How about breakfast for dinner?!" And we could eat the pancakes and finish our game of chess. Then Ronny could leave and I could tell Warden and Regrette a bedtime story. And I would say to them, "The early bird does catch the worm!"