A Carsonation Exclusive

If you were Carson, today

or, If you lived in Carsonation

or, For best results download schedule

or, Everything I do is stolen from what others do

or, My life is a cliche and here's a day

Try as I might to write first-person stories of my life, I never get the feeling you readers fully understand what an average Monday in my summer life might be like. So, in type, I break down my schedule.

And I start off by asking the question: What day does your week start? And since I am the only one here to answer that question, I will. Monday. While many continue to state that Sunday is the start of the week, I say Monday is the start of the work week. Better, I say Monday is the start of the school week. And since I'm one of the oldest schoolboys, Monday is where I begin.

Monday: I recently began a shaving schedule that puts the blade to my face exactly twice a week. I learned this from a profile of an online friend I have. Monday is a great day to shave. It really does mean it's time for school, or business. But shaving isn't typically how my Mondays begin. First I wake up with the sun. I don't always get up with the sun, but I do wake due to the fact that my window has no blinds, that the window faces east, and that my body had been programed to wake up at 4:30 for three straight years (I no longer do this). I've been going on walks upon awakening. For my dog and to stretch my often aching body. What's helped has been the ipod I recently got in the mail. Take piss, put on shoes, turn on pod, plastic bag, leash, ChuckIt, and go. Returning, I usually take the headphones out of my ears, wash my hands, and start boiling water for the power breakfast. The following meal was given to me by my brother: One cup oatmeal mixed in boiling water with one egg. In bowl mix oatmeal/egg concoction with walnuts, crasins, honey, and soy milk. Eat. When I had it, I put a dollop of peanut butter, which goes well with anything but especially oatmeal. I like to eat my breakfast in the company of Heidi, who I will feed after I am done, with a newspaper if I have one, or with Maury, who I like to watch and laugh at. With my laughter I'm trying to wake up Barry, whose room borders the television room and who hates it when I watch Maury in the morning. And, it is the natural reaction to viewing paternal results coming in on national television--in most cases. On Mondays I ride my bike downtown, usually before 11 a.m. This begins my 12-hour workday, consisting of the two jobs I currenly have. First, I go into the magazine, which is a monthly. The title of this magazine is two words the first word the state I currently live and the second rhymes with isness. I don't care for the content all the much but the "benefits" have been better than I expected and I seem to be learning how to type faster, clearer and more consise. By 6 p.m. I need to be at my other job, a bookstore which name rhymes with owls. The next five hours of my life are spent in front of a computer, connected to a register, which has a scanner plugged into it for scanning barcodes of books for purchase. I've often zoned out doing this, turning robotic like my body and mind are an extension of the computer itself. As if I am new hardware detected. I'll help close shop. Unlock my bike and ride back across the Willamette River to my house, arriving right before or right after 11:30 p.m.

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