Truemors
"CHAIN REACTION"
by Sandra Riffero
Your almost empty bottle of Aussie Sprunch Spray
is on the bathroom counter.
It tips over because you left the top loose and it
dribbles sticky stuff onto your toothbrush.
You grab your toothbrush to clean it off
and get toothpaste on your hand.
You unwittingly rub white, creamy toothpaste
on your black "Cultivate Peace" fleece jacket
and go to clean it off.
Since you're already in the bathroom,
you decide your winter dead skin needs moisturizer
so slather on some stuff with broken promises
of a more youthful tomorrow.
You realize that the fuzzy fleece from your jacket
has now transferred and is housing itself on your face.
You acknowledge that you are taking on a few more cat characteristics
than you really want and think about the episode
of Nip-Tuck (which you usually don't watch)
that has a gal begging a plastic surgeon to make her more cat-like.
You frown, causing you to have to reach for the wrinkle cream again.
Your cat shows her disdain for the idea of you becoming
more cat-like in appearance by vomiting on the carpet
and you have to follow her around cleaning it up as she moves about.
You see that she has feasted on some poor creature
from the great outdoors and try to cast your gaze elsewhere
so that you too don't engage in the Vomit Fest of 2008.
You realize that this might be a good time to wash your damn hands.
You think this is the end but when you go to your blog
(which you have completely and totally ignored almost all year)
and try to post you get an error message about 12x in a row.
That's when you have an Oprah-like "aha" moment
and concede that your MySpace profile knows
that you've been cheating on it with FACEBOOK.
You stroke your MySpace web by providing it with insider info:
MySpace will be adding applications in about a month
and you may be lured back again.
Still VERY angry with you, your MySpace blog refuses to let you post
(insert a dozen more error messages here).
You decide to have some salsa and dribble it on your poor
Cultivate Peace jacket again while you battle it out with your MAC.
And then it dawns on you:
"Did I remember to wash my hands?"
And the beat goes on.
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