Months. For months they�d been on the road. Waking up at unfathomable hours of the morning everyday to do ridiculous interviews in which the always-nervous interviewer asked the same unoriginal questions. After which they�d be rushed off to make an appearance where they�d be honored for their �fantastic� charity work. Then they�d stop for lunch, and if they were lucky, McDonalds wouldn�t be filling their chiseled little bellies like usual. Next on the itinerary would be the venue, AKA big place soon to be filled with thousand of screaming little girls. Sound check. Break. Hair/makeup. Show. Unbelievably quick shower followed by The Re-Boarding of the Bus. More often than not, one of them would want to go clubbing so hangovers the next morning were frequently inevitable. For months they followed this schedule to a tee. But the week had come. The last concert was over, the last appearance was done, the last french fry digested. A break.
The key quickly unlocked the front door and he ran inside, dropping his bags on the marble flooring. He lifted his nose and closed his eyes. Home.
He shut the door with his right foot and proceeded to the kitchen. His eyes took in the site. How he�d missed this place. As stark and ugly as it was, anything was better than living on a cramped tour bus with four other guys, no matter how close they were. He yanked the refrigerator door open and was met with an empty water bottle, a jar of mayonnaise and a couple of batteries. Rolling his eyes, the door was closed and he was left with a glitch in his plan. The plan was as follows:
1. Come home
2. Cook meal
3. Eat meal
4. Go swimming
5. Take bath
6. Watch television
7. Sleep
Of course now, he had only four things left on the list, one being done already and two being impossible under the current circumstances. His eyebrows furrowed. The week had just begun and already he was encountering problems.
The next thing on his list was to go swimming so he decided to run upstairs and change into his trunks. Once at the chest of drawers, he found the swimwear section but the trunks were nowhere in sight. He sighed as he picked up some pink Speedos.
He stood in front of the pool, or lack thereof. There was a hole, a drain, and even some floaties. But what does every good pool need? Very good; water. Remembering his request to the get the pool bottom thoroughly cleaned, he sighed again and went back inside to dress himself. Speedos weren�t his idea of comfort clothing.
Walking into the master bathroom, he disrobed for a second time and twisted the knobs, splashing warm water into the large tub. He smiled while adding bubbles; it was his break after all. Sinking down into the liquid, a contended look spread slowly across his face. At least one thing on his list went right.
After the bath, he went downstairs and plopped down in front of the big screen TV. The click of the remote control sounded over and over during his search for something to watch.
�Soap opera, Real World, news, rerun, news, cartoons, mush, crap��
He rolled his eyes as he pressed the OFF button on the remote. His stomach grumbled when he remembered he hadn�t had anything to eat, not counting the skimpy cereal served on the plane. He reached for the telephone and dialed the number to a small deli down the street. After ordering a club sandwich, he hung up and stared at the ceiling.
Before he knew it the doorbell was ringing and he was on his feet, paying and tipping the bored-looking delivery guy. He sat down at the dining room table and scarfed down the sandwich, which he knew was not enough to fill him up, but didn�t really care at the moment.
The food was soon gone. The sun was going down. The clock was still ticking and he found himself wondering what was so wrong with his plan that only one out of 6 things had gone right so far. Shrugging, he decided to call it a day, [or night�whatever] and head up to bed. Snuggling in the warmth of his down comforter, he smiled and soon fell asleep to the sound of what seemed like the entire world�s worth of crickets outside his bedroom window.
The next morning, he awoke and began to make his mental list for the day.
1. Get up
2. Eat something
3. Do something
4. Sleep
Rolling out his bed, he walked downstairs and glanced towards the kitchen. He already knew what was [or wasn�t] in the refrigerator so he didn�t even bother looking. He quickly changed into some jeans and pulled on a baseball cap and sunglasses. He walked to the nearest fast food joint and got his usual. Sitting back down in his dining room, he chomped down on his Quarter Pounder With Cheese. He stuffed some fries in his mouth and picked up the phone after the second ring.
�Hello?�
�Hey Justin, what�s cookin�?�
�Hey Chris, nothing much, just eating some lunch.�
�McDonalds for you too?�
--Silence--
�Dude, how did we become so pathetic?�
�I dunno Justin. But what I do know is if this week doesn�t end soon, I�m going to go crazy.�
�You�re already crazy, man.�
�Yeah, but not crazy enough to have batteries in my fridge. That�s what�s gonna happen to me if I don�t get back on that bus soon.�
Justin looked nervously toward his refrigerator.
�Yeah, I know what you mean.�
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