My Pants Depression

Great. I see Awkland is throwing another party. Talk about Suck Fest '08. Do they not remember how bad Suck Fest '07 was? Talk about losers. 

Pants. We've all worn them at one time or another. Some of us wear better pants than others. I'm talking to you Chet, you're pants are just terrible. But sometimes pants do more than just cover your legs. They cover your life in a shroud. It's like that black smoke from Lost, except without the cool noise. 


That's what my life was like as far back as October. It was one great depression. I couldn't figure it out. Nothing had changed. Why was I now suffering this great depression? Then about a month ago I heard a bird singing when I woke up, I didn't know it at the time, but that bird was the answer to all my questions. 

I have this tradition. I just started it this year. The first time I hear a bird singing in the morning, it's my sign to break out the shorts for the year. Exactly one week after I hear the bird, the shorts come out. That's my tradition. I broke that tradition this year, so I guess technically that's not a tradition as I have yet to do it even once. 

I couldn't wait the one week as tradition dictates. Two days after hearing that bird sing, the shorts came out of the closet. (They aren't gay or anything, they just literally came out of the closet.)

My whole changed that day. It was the old me again. I felt alive, free and happy. People could stand my company, a step up from the usual detestation feeling people get when I'm around. 

It was the shorts, it had to be. Nothing else was different. In a way, shorts saved my life. It was only a matter of time until those pants enveloped every fiber of my being and slowly began to suffocate me. My pants were out to kill me.

I know it's still kind of cold outside. People look at me funny as I walk around campus. I assume it's because I'm wearing shorts, but that probably isn't it. Stop looking at me though. Look at my shorts. They saved my life. They should be give a medal of some sort. People should be congratulating them. So go ahead, feel free to shake my shorts hand when you see me. They deserve it. 

As for me, semi-enjoy my company while you can, because in 6 or 7 more months the detestable me comes back. Hopefully the birds come early next year. Before the pants kill me