It's the Little Things
Being Grateful for Every Stinking Day
by LaToya Prater
Little did I know that going to lunch today, a routine event I take for granted, would
be the blessed, beautiful experience it turned out to be! Surely I am the luckiest person
in the world, looked upon lovingly by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and all the sweet
cherubs of Heaven!
I began my day as I usually do, with three hours of Bible study(1)
before the breaking of God's glorious, breathtaking dawn. I then washed and dressed for
work, praising Yahweh every moment and thanking him for the gift of a good job that puts
money in my pocket and food in my mouth(2).
(1) Heavy drinking
(2) And a part-time career dealing and prostituting myself to 33 year old
Scorpios named Rufus (who like walks on the beach, getting coked up and beating hookers)
since the assholes don't pay me enough to even make driving my ass in here every morning
worth my time
My morning began with a joyous reunion with co-workers I had so dearly missed over the
recent holiday weekend(3). I, of course, chose to come in and work(4)
the day following Thanksgiving, for I cannot help but want to continue servicing all the
veterinary supply sales representatives - if I could do it 24/7, I would neither eat nor
sleep to make it a reality.
(3)A couple of the warehouse "women" (and I use that term loosely)
were smoking Pall Malls outside and talking about which of their kids had been arrested
over the holiday. I avoided them like Ford avoided sobriety.
(4)Surf the net, send tons of personal email and drink heavily while treating
anyone who will listen to an unending litany of bitching about my job
When lunch came, my foot, which recently underwent surgery (praise Jesus, praise him, I
am still alive!) was hurting badly, which only served as a celebrated reminder that
although I had holes in my feet, there were other individuals out there far less fortunate
than myself (I shudder to think, for example, of the rare cat dander-induced leprosy
suffered by some - a hideous, agonizing deformity). I would have to go home right quick
and put on the shoe the hallowed Dr. and his staff had given me for ultimate comfort.
On my way home, a police officer was kind enough to stop me, as I had carelessly been
going almost 20 miles over the designated speed limit. How fortunate I was that this
messenger of God chose to save me from imminent destruction! It could have been any of the
other people(5) on the road, but I was destined to be blessed! The $100+
dollars I pay on the ticket will no doubt be put to good use and go toward helping make
the community a better place(6).
(5)star fruit-sucking speeding cockweasels
(6)Keeping cops crooked, allowing them to confiscate (and do) drugs from high
school kids
Knowing I was helping my community more than made up for the fact I would not be able
to afford food that day (or for a week, no doubt) so I happily ignored the gnawing in my
stomach as I got into my special shoe and headed back to work.
As the day wore on, having had little sustenance, I began to grow dizzy(7).
It became more difficult to concentrate on my work. I needed to eat, and was grateful for
a small supply of colored copy paper and letterhead I happened to have on my desk. With a
few rubber bands, I thought I could make a scant but delicious meal.
(7)NOTHING to do with the pint of Diablo tequila I keep taped to the back of my
computer tower
And that's when I found THEM. I had forgotten. Food of the Lord! Manna from Heaven! A
WHOLE BOX of Spree in my desk drawer! I think I bought them at Target last week. Or else
the foil hat-wearing angels that come out of the television and tell me exactly which
signals to flash at the aliens from atop my roof put them there.
I bet they did! They could get in, because they can fit on the head of a pin(8).
(8)I'm going to go drop some more acid and talk to the ghost of Charles
Nelson-Reilly, who isn't dead. Figure that one out.
- www.KCDrinker.com - 2003 ©
