That job really stinks

I hoped I would sleep in a bit this fine Saturday. Instead my eyes popped open at exactly 6:00 according to the ancient digital clock on the nightstand next to my pillow. I call the clock radio ancient because it is old for an electronic device. We got the clock when we got married, or shortly thereafter. That makes it...let’s see, carry the one...36 years old. It still keeps good time. I haven’t used the alarm or radio function for years though. I suppose the alarm still works.

Anyway here we are. I’m up. You may or may not be. For all I know you are reading this in the afternoon. Or evening. Or in 2034. I doubt you will be reading this in 2034. The Committee for Public Safety and Wokeness will have purged both me and my blog long before that point.

It is the summer solstice. Summer will officially begin at 5:43 EST here in Grover’s Corners. I’ll be at work. I’m closing today. I’m working on the morrow as well. I have the midday shift. Then I get to come home and start a colonoscopy prep. Happy Fathers Day! What a pain in the butt.

Yes, I went there.

Anyway, Monday will find me having movies made of my lower innards. I keep thinking that the doctor spent all of those years in med school just to spend all day driving a scope up various rectums. All day. Every day. But I guess he doesn’t go on call in the middle of the night too often. At about $3,000 for the procedure, the Butt Doc is maybe getting a grand per procedure in profit after office and equipment costs. If he does four scopes every morning and golfs each afternoon, that means he is laughing at those idiot OBGYN and general practice docs as he drops his twenty grand into the bank each week. I could do daily poop chute tours for a lot less compensation than that. Heck, even if he gets half of my estimate...

Boy, I bet 2034 you is happy you dropped in for this electronic conversation.

Happy summer. Happy Saturday.