At school. I’m drinking strong sour coffee, wishing it was beer. Tired of teaching so I’m screening Inside Out for the kids. I wonder what’s inside my head. Probably a lot of bad writers. Or maybe a Situation Room, full of bad generals advising the president to do the same thing that didn’t work last time.
Going to the bar tonight. I need to keep my social skills from atrophying downward onto the autistic spectrum. Gotta stockpile banter, so I’m on the phone right now absorbing content. Making a Murderer, Golden Goddamn Globes, El Chapo GoPro raid footage. And that’s just today. Who the fuck can keep up with all this homework. Let’s go back to just three channels. Blow up the Internet. Kill all the apps. Everyone shut up.
Time for lunch with the other teachers. Bean sprout soup and kimchi. As always, I’m the only one in the room who isn’t a trilingual intellectual. TV is playing the same headlines on North Korea from 2013. Annihilation is imminent, says Wolf Blitzer. The South Koreans disagree. They don’t give a shit. The North is just the drunk neighbor who throws a bottle through the window every so often but that’s it.
The co-workers ask if I want to go hiking. I tell them I’ll think about it. But I won’t. It’s cold because it’s January and we’re right next to Russia. When it’s cold outside the air hurts. And besides that, a Korean hike is a disaster. They drink soju at the summit and then stagger back down the hill and get lost. An hour to round up all these old drunk prunes in the woods. A further three hours of barbecue after that. Eh, sounds like it would be a much, much better use of my existence to just stay inside cradling my phone, gently kneading my balls like Greek worry beads.
Anyway. Only a few more weeks of dodging invites like this, then on March 26th it’s off to Vietnam. Pretty much anywhere America has waged war I’ll go live there. Be a prince because I speak neutral Hollywood English. And still continue to perform my incredible trick of finding things to complain about.