So it was fast approaching eleven pm when I got this funny idea to take a hot shower. I take my daily shower in the morning, being that kind of guy. My Dad is the kind of guy, by contrast, who takes his in the evening. That’s because he worked for a living; actually worked up a sweat. Gotta respect that, but sometimes at night I get the urge to go to bed extra clean. It helps me relax and sleep. Can you relate?

So I took my shower, and since I live alone and pay the bills I decided to stand for an extra minute or so with my forehead on the white tiles, letting the hot water run on my stressed shoulders, even though I was already clean.

I was nice and relaxed. I got out and dressed in sweats, because I still have to take the doggie out to pee before bed. The thought came to me that tomorrow is the first of the month and I need to pay the mortgage now. It’s just been refinanced, so this is the first month with a new lender. The bill has been waiting on my desk for a couple of weeks. I’d just go ahead and handle it, drop it off at the post office in the morning.

Went to the desk. Guess what was really in the envelope I thought was the bill. Junk mail. An offer to sell me insurance to pay off the mortgage if I croak. Ah Bullshit. It took me 10 minutes to find the real bill, in a stack of crap I was going to feed to the shredder. The real bill didn’t look as real as the fake one. All this killed my happyclean feelgood buzz. I’m about as relaxed as a jackrabbit snagged in a barbwire fence.

I have a stack of mortgage death insurance offers … Why should I give a wet slap about the mortgage if I’m singing with the choir invisible? My folks can sell the casa del cielo, pay off the note, and buy a farm in Arkansas with the equity. I’ll be marching through the afterlife, finding every asshat who sent me one of these these. Then while they’re having a nice hot shower, I’ll sneak in and flush the toilet.

Aaaiieeee!