How Not To Get Screwed (In That Bad Way)

I remember my twenties fairly vividly. It was a time of promise, of college, and a lot of drinking. My long term game plan was fairly fuzzy - get a job, marriage at some point (it's a bit more complicated than that, but I'll leave that for another post), and everything will more or less fall into place.

Pffffft! (My utterance of disdain for my own stupidity.)

I have a buddy, in his early 30's, who's about to have his first child. He was a bit... anxious about the event. I asked him if he had a plan for what happens after the baby is born. A plan about minor stuff like work, schedules, and lifestyle changes.

"I plan to be flexible," he said.

At that point I did not want to mention the 18 wheel truck about to strike him and his dual income-married-with no kids lifestyle. I didn't mention that flexibility is an ambiguous strategy akin to the Titanic's plan of, "We plan to to sail from point A to point B." Let me tell you my friends, shit happens between point A and point B.

Why am I talking about this? I figured out that I needed a new plan a few days ago. "Why," you may ask, "what has dramatically changed in Andy's life?"

Two words.

Summer vacation.

During the school year I joke about how my kids are the State's problem between the hours of  9 - 3. Well, that gravy train has ended. Summer camp is OK for a short period of time (I am frugal remember), but there is no denying the fact that my time is bit more constrained. My plan?

1. Drug the children - Easy to do with over the counter medication and they get to nap the afternoon away!
2. I plan to drug myself - A rum and coke three times a day should do it. Maybe I should dedicate a full day to one kind of drink. I could visit a several members of the martini family. They're always happy to see me.
3. The Evil one-eyed Cyclops known as the television - It's working right now as I write!

Hmmm, I see problems with each one of these solutions. I really don't have time or the money for rehab.

I think I'll just be flexible.

That'll do it...

in Purgatory.