On the nose

From Pathetic Life #4
Tuesday, September 27, 1994

This morning I awoke with a newborn pink pimple on the bridge of my nose, and I smiled. 

In high school, and dang it, well into my twenties, I was horrified whenever acne sprouted on my face. I cared more what people thought, back then. 

I still care, but not as much, and less and less. So there’s an itsy-bitsy baby zit on my schnoz. It’s going to get bigger before it’s old enough to squeeze. After squeezing, maybe there’ll be a scab, or maybe a bandaid. For the next few days or weeks my nose will be ugly, but my ordinary nose ain’t chiseled in granite. A big juicy red bump will give my face more character.

Yeah, I’d love to be People’s Sexiest Man Alive, but that ship has sunk to the seabed, long ago. I am big enough to be two men, and it’s fat, not muscle. I wear a crew-cut because it’s low-maintenance. My clothes come from thrift stores, and are replaced only when they’re in tatters. I shower once or twice weekly whether I need it or not, and often wear the same underwear as the day before. I buy deodorant, but keep it in my desk at work, and only put it on if I smell myself stinking. My teeth are yellow, and beginning to wobble and tilt.

So why not add a giant inflamed puss-filled soon-to-explode pimple on my nose? It finishes the image, suitable for framing. I am the Unsexiest Man Alive.

♦ ♦ ♦

Late this afternoon at work, we unexpectedly received a large volume of rush-rush gotta-get-it-done work. Oh my god, this was important. People could die, nations could topple, there could be pestilence, radiation poisoning, tidal waves, knock-knock jokes, and won’t someone please think of the children?

Well, the oh-so-important rush-rush work didn’t get done. Sorry, Mr Dude, but you can’t drop a big box of documents on us at 4:15 and expect it all to be organized and input by 5:00. It wasn’t important enough for the boss to offer overtime, so we were gone at quitting time, same as any other day.

I am (mildly) curious to see what happens tomorrow, when management understands that the work that suddenly, desperately needed to be done today, didn’t get done today.

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

Pathetic Life
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