Getting Exercised (from a hamster’s perspective)

In Animals, Circus, Current reading, Drafts, Food, Games, Hautvoir, Local projects on April 19, 2014 at 7:02 am

Or : Practical  Applications to the Rabelaisian Injunction

Mieux est de ris que de larmes escripre

pour ce que rire est de propre de l’homme

1. The young man’s voice: mournful. This is his third attempt at convincing me to pick up a new channel decoder at my local service store. My third time at telling him I don’t own a TV set. “But the decoder’s included in the deal,” he says. I sense a note of desperation. I know on-the-job suicides are frequent in the company from which he draws a paycheck. I’m willing to do my bit for mental health, but I’ve walked more than my quota for the day. The conversation ends in a whimper, not a bang. He apologizes for the disturbance. I do the vocal equivalent of patting his hand and soothing his brow before hanging up.

2. The young man insisting on my right to a channel decoder couldn’t help about my voicemail recording switching back to a message recorded by someone who’s never lived in these premises. This was not part of his purview. Ergo, an unclaimed channel decoder floats out there, unattached, while folks who call to speak to me start off by saying hi to my former spouse. Onward, kadima, forward to

3. the waitress/actress/glasswork designer/clown who served me lunch explaining she’d had the whole rigmarole about her former spouse signing over the rights to the phone service and continued use of the same phone number, etc. Eight years later, she still must seek him out for authorizations to service modifications. Ergo, a few unattached contract transfers must be floating out there along with channel decoders and konked-out internet connectors in nifty knock-down plastic casing.

4. The days of delirious book buying: I guess they happen to any book fiend who gets back online buying privileges. Fun while it lasted. Unless I find some way to increase my monthly earnings by one hundred euro, the power company’s decided to siphon off an extra hundred a month from my bank account. I’m already paying over one fifty. Steep for the price? The hamster moves on to

5. Walking up the down escalator: the final hour of yesterday’s meeting was spent trying to figure out how to meet the contradictory obligations voted into this country’s Labor Laws. Their Texts of Interpretation bear a strong resemblance to the original Dagwood Sandwich with a live eel topping the final slice in lieu of a hefty sardine.

Meanwhile, I have to wonder when the small bird out there gets around to noshing a bit. He/she starts up at 5 am. It’s now 8 am. How many calories does a twenty gram beastie expend on three hours’ worth of bird calls? Something for the hamster to ponder  as the wheel turns.


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