Bright & Yellow

I woke with an unforgiving headache. The back of my eyes throbbing as I rolled them behind my head and into last evening…

The deviant sun seems to temporarily lend me its comforting warmth, but at the same time, I’m finding its morning brilliance thoroughly annoying. Grunting, I swing my leg from under the blankets, testing the early air. It is cold, December, and miserable outside.

Sliding my feet inside my slippers I curl my toes and wait for the chills to subside. Delaying my morning work routine, I find myself sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the closet. From this view, the perfectly justifiable and reasonable excuses for my inevitable and daily tardiness at the office begin to undulate, spin, and crash upon me hard enough to make me smile. My grin resolves and these thoughts reassure me that my job will be safe for yet another day . Reluctantly, I turn off the alarm and head for the bathroom to begin my day with a strong bright yellow piss.

Dehydrated from a long night of drinking, I am not surprised to find my urine more brilliant than my mood. Our plumbing is shit so I can never flush prior to taking a shower and I will leave the former for my roommate to discover. The childish pleasure this gives me is disturbing, yet a necessary and ageless act of virility in my eyes.

In my morning daze I’ll forget not to flush and as the swirling water begins to descend I think to myself “everything else is broken, but the toilet fucking works!” Karma will now reduce the water pressure to a mere trickle; presumably, I’ll unleash my frustration on the culprit by kicking at it with my soft tan slipper. Tossing the broken toilet handle into the sink I remove my clothes and stare at myself in the mirror. I have always done this for no reason. Perhaps I want to believe I am constantly evolving, changing, and growing more adult. In reality, I am one day older, my hair six hours longer, and my manhood just as I left it.

Stepping into the shower, the stagnant hot water envelops my ankles as I dance and turn in the soapy white pool. The hair filled drain, burping and gurgling at my suffocating presence, as the water trickles and jumps erratically towards me. I am forced to wet my body in quarters as my head continues to rap softly at its nape. Cracking the small shower window, the cool winter breathes over my shoulders bringing all my short hairs to attention.