Ah, what a day!

Thu, 01 Apr 2004 22:34:31 GMT

Today, instead of going to work, I went fishing.

Something in the cool crispness of the day called out to me. It was as if I'd bitten into an apple, it's sweet, succulant juices running down my cheek as the skin broke under my teeth. Today was a day to play hooky, and I'm fierce at that game when I play it.

I pulled my fishing clothes on, and shoved my fedora onto my head. Every fisherman knows that you need a lucky hat when you step onto that bank, and I was no different.

I left my briefcase lying next to the door, and instead descended into the basement to find and retrieve my fishing tackle. Little did I know that this would be an adventure in itself.

In my basement are towers of old books, clothes, and random 80's nostalga. Each is precariously balanced from floor to ceiling, set just so that the slightest disturbance will bring an avalanche of GI Joe and He-Men down on an unwarry traveler. Fortunately for me, I knew where to step, and what to avoid.

I carefully followed the path I knew so well through the mess. I picked my steps carefully, avoiding certain areas that I knew were certain death to venture into.

Finally, I came within sight of my treasure. Sitting on the back table, near my workbench but within easy reach, was the tackle box and rod. The elation I momentarily felt at the sight of these items was banished quickly, though, for blocking my path was a device so wickedly cunning that a man can barely speak its name without fear: my girlfriend's antique dollhouse.

How had it come to be between the object of my desires and my physical person? Certainly I would not have put it there, for I knew that such an obstacle could only mean that there was a far more devious mind at work: the mind of a woman who is intent on hoarding a treasured artifact of her childhood in vain hopes that a daughter will derive the same joy from it that she did.

This new threat to my perfect morning was something I was certainly unprepared for, but I'm nothing if not resourceful.

One cannot go around the dollhouse, for it is bordered on all sides by piles of crazy stuff. Moving the dollhouse would, of course, bring down the wrath of the woman. Only one option remained, and it was dangerous.

I had to jump.

This may not sound like much, but it was dangerous. Imagine if I couldn't get over it? I wouldn't survive the day with the girlfriend hunting me down. If I jumped too high, the ceiling (only 7 feet up) would take me (and possibly the dollhouse) out with narry a second thought. No, it was time for an heroic leap: the kind they do in movies.

I backed up, giving myself a few feet of running room. I sighted the goal, thought about exactly what I wanted to do, and even visualized the contortions I would need to pull off while in mid-air. Finally, when I was mentally ready, I made my move.

I flew through the air, graceful as a swan. I cleared both the ceiling and the dollhouse with room to spare, and prepared for landing. My hands touched first, and I let my momentum pull my body forward, rolling my feet over my head. I finished the roll, and stood up, amazed at what I had just done.

I wish someone could have seen that. But, alas, the house was still silent, and I was late to meet up with those fish. I grabbed my rod and tacklebox, and noticed the door to my left.

I'd gone through all that trouble, and forgotten that I had another access door to get me in.

Apparently, even the fish were laughing too hard at me to realize they were supposed to be caught, for I didn't get a single one today. But it was such a perfect day for fishing that I didn't mind one bit.

Well, maybe I should play hooky tomorrow?

A Diary of Lies

Ah, what a day!