Swag On

Wow. I guess you really don't appreciate free time until it's been snatched from you and thrown into some bottomless pit. It doesn't seem right to measure the time in days it's been since I blogged last. I shall measure it in spreadsheets. One, two, a million-ish.

At school, and I know I've written this and said it a lot, but every day was Saturday. Now, every day is not Saturday, but doing small things during the week, or as I like to call it, "being a person" during the week, really makes things exponentially better. I guess it's the little things that keep me going all day, like when they have a Cuban food buffet in the cafeteria. Eating chicharrones while stealing glances at NYTimes.com during lunch, or grabbing a fruit shake with a buddy at a food truck at 4pm like I used to do last summer, or crawling under my desk for a thirty minute power nap. These are the luxuries of my life now. And no I don't nap, although I heard some bankers do that when they are pulling all-nighters.

There's this song that I have on my workout mix right now called "Swag On" by Souja Boy. Swag basically is short for swagger. You can do the extra research if you want a better definition. The song is a remix and there are about five or six guys on the track. I think it's Jeezy's who says this, but he has a few lines, and they go like this

"...tell them lames to lose my number/
until they find some money/
being joke is a broke, so that's why I find em funny/
They say life's a bitch but you couldn't take her from me/
Now won't you quit making blogs and try to make some money...."

I really do agree with this, at least the last part. But when I'm not sure Jeezy, or whoever it was that said this, was pointing said "lames" in the direction of finance. Anyway, when you listen to a song a couple times a week for a few weeks you start to think about it a little bit. I'm not saying it's time to quit making blogs, but perhaps it's time to start pursuing writing in other avenues. Unfortunately there's this whole lack of time thing I'm dealing with now, which brings me to my next question. How in God's name does anyone do this and have time for kids? Bless the parents out there, or at least the ones that don't go locking their kids up in cages in the basement.

Before I literally fall asleep at the keyboard here I'll leave you with the chorus to the aforementioned song. Suffice to say, when I get out of bed in the morning I look in the mirror and do my best Nancy Kerrigan impression and say "Whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyy!?!???" (see ~ 2:00).



Soulja Boy, how'd you get out of bed this morning?
Quote... "hopped up out tha bed, turn ma swag on, took a look in tha mirror said wassup, yeeeeea im gettin money (ohh)".