Flashlight

Before I started blogging I had sort of an unofficial-agreement with myself that none of my blogs would be sports related in anyway whatsoever. Mostly because 99% of sports blogs are so laden with fucking lame pop-culture crossover references theyre unbearable to read. And that most of the bloggers are huge fucking faggot ass tools. But I'll have to make an exception to my own rule to set up the context of this post.
I started drinking, hard, around 9am on Sunday. In preparation for the Nascar race of course. I was confident Jeff Gordon was going to do well, given he, along with Jimmy Johnson, is basically the best at "cookie-cutter" tracks, aka mile-and-a-half ovals. And of course he did do well. He led almost every single lap of the race, but the one that counted.. the last lap. I have a short temper to begin with but given that Gordon had lost, toward the end because of a bad call by his crewchief after he had led the entire race I was clearly pissed. The fact that I had drank around 12 Beast Lights just during the race probably didn't help this fact. I flipped out and this is where, I think, the flashlight incident happened. I can't say for sure because as soon as Gordon lost I chugged a couple of beers and semi-blacked out, aside from remembering parts of the flashlight incident. A 'Nascar nap' aka passout was definately imminent.
I wake up on my couch and look over the the clock on my iHome. My eyes are still tired as hell. It's 12:30. I immediately think damn, how am I this tired if I slept that long, until about a half a second later when I realized it was 12:30 AM, the middle of the night. The fact that no ambient sunlight was coming into my far basement window (I have the window near my computer blocked by cardboard 'blinds,' which consist of both Totino's and Milwaukee's Best Light boxes taped over the entire window) tipped me off to this fact pretty quickly. Damnit I think. I'm immediately frustrated by this blow to the schedule of my already screwed up circadian rhythm, especially since I know I won't be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. So I finally get the motivation to get up off the couch I had passed out on to go turn on nearest light switch. Then I notice a couple of things. The left side of my left foot hurts like hell and I'm almost hobbling on it to attempt to walk. I then notice several shards of some reflective material which appeared to be glass, broken glass of course, shining the ambient light coming from my computer back at me. It was at this point I noticed the bruise I had on my inner-right bicep. I'm not really one to complain about bruises, injuruies or pain but I have absolutely no clue how a person would get bruises in these two places. The outside of a left-foot and then the inside of a right bicep. I just can't even comprehend how either would happen accidentally. So I finally flick on the light switch. I see shards of broken glass all over the floor. I'm initially confused. After gathering all the shards I walk over to the garbage can and see a fucked up flashlight lying in the garbage bag and remembered some of my previous destruction. When I subsequently looked at the dent in my door my suspicions were confirmed. I had gotten so mad that Jeff Gordon had lost the Nascar race earlier that I for some reason took a flashlight and threw it as hard as I possibly could against my basement (metal) door. Which I guess isn't all bad since if I threw it against anything else there would be a massive hole in the wall. The thing that intrigues me most is why I chose a flashlight among the huge array of other, harder unbreakable metal things. I'm guessing it was just blind rage but unfortunately this is a question I will probably never know the true answer to. Hopefully these winter storms don't get more severe because if the lights go out now I'll be stuck in the dark and I'll have given myself, yet another, reality check.