First Thanksgiving Alone: A Play-by-Play of the Average Slacker

This is my first Thanksgiving alone, so I figured I would chronicle the amazingly epic experience of spending it alone for all my readers to enjoy. Let's dive in!

8:15 am: Roommate wakes me up to ask if I can give him a ride to work in an hour. I, being the level-headed individual that I am, hurl a sword in his general direction. Apparently, I muttered something about agreeing to it.

9:15 am: I stumble out of the sheet on the floor that I count as my bed and find my roommate. He casually informs me that it's 40 degrees out. I hate him a little more with each passing moment.

9:20 am: I proceed to put on layers consisting of pajama pants, jeans, a Middle Eastern kurtas, a leather jacket, my slippers, and my newly-acquired Spider-Man crochet hat. I am the cold weather warrior.

9:30 am: I take my roommate to his soul-crushing corporate-owned retail job that doesn't even close on one of the two big holidays of the year. I would fear more for his existence if I actually cared more.

9:45 am: I return home and settle into the couch. My OTHER roommate heads out to go to her family's place. I feel a slight pang of regret that I can't do the same thing, but realize that I can fill that void with leftover pizza.

9:50 am: Filling the void never tasted so good.

10:00 am: I settle into the couch with Netflix playing on the main computer and my laptop in front of me. My phone next to me and wireless mouse connected to the Netflix computer. Beside THAT a mountain of sodas. All in all, my setup is a monument to utter laziness and desire to never get up from this spot.

11:30 am: Decide to write this article in hopes that someone may find it amusing.

11:35 am: Realize that writing an article about my Thanksgiving alone is coolant-drinkingly depressing.

11:37 am: I start adding liquor to my sodas.

1:00 pm: After several hours straight of watching Scrubs and the dawning realization that none of my roomies will actually be returning anytime soon, I decide to do what any sensible person would: throw myself into a fantasy world.

1:01 pm: I turn on Skyrim for the first time. God save me.

4:07 pm: I realize what a horrible person I am as I steal from every character I come across and then sell them back their own belongings. I decide to save what little self respect I have and quit Skyrim for now.

4:08 pm: I also now realize that 4.5 hours of consistent drinking have had the adverse effect of making the characters in Skyrim address me directly. I'm thinking I used too much vodka. Or that I used just the right amount of vodka over a period of several hours.

4:30 pm: Going back to watch Scrubs. However, there seems to be a pink-clad ninja in the corner watching me watch Scrubs. This could be bad.

5:00 pm: The ninja isn't actually a bad guy. He's politely informed me that he's merely the Thanksgiving ninja, roaming the land for people alone on the holiday to keep them company. He's also arranging all the shoes in the apartment in some strange order involving color, size, material, style, and how often they're worn. I casually let him know that his efforts are in vain, that his work will be destroyed upon my roommates' return. He casually responds by telling me to shut up and drink more.

5:01 pm: I do what the ninja tells me to.

5:15 pm: I don't remember the characters in Scrubs being able to climb walls like Spider-Man. I then realize that I've lied down on my side.

5:49 pm: I don't remember how, but I've somehow found my way to bathroom. The toilet, I realize, looks incredibly inviting. I proceed to hug it for a while. Go team.

6:49 pm: Mr. Toilet wakes me up from my nap and I stumble my way back to the main room. I trip over a basket I didn't remember being there. I damn my roommates to blackest pits of hell for their negligence. I could use a smoke.

6:53 pm: I now realize that Mother Nature is against me and refuses to let me go out and smoke in comfort. I knew this day would come and I am prepared.

6:55 pm: Letting Mother nature know that you are not her bitch by stepping onto your parking lot-side balcony nude is CLEARLY the best use of my time. The pride I feel in my manliness is almost worth the shrinkage that occurs. Almost.

6:58 pm: My penis gets stuck to a cold railing. Uh-oh.

7:25 pm: After a carefully executed MacGuyver-esque maneuver involving a lighter, one of the balcony chairs, and a nearby squirrel, I finally free my junk from it's icy prison and quickly make my way back inside. I believe my point was made.

9:46 pm: I wake up, vaguely remembering a decision to warm myself up with more liquor. The Netflix has timed out, my sodas are empty, I've eaten all the leftover pizza, and no one has texted/called me. I briefly consider condemning my soul to another few hours of Skyrim, but I reconsider.

9:50 pm: I fall asleep.

The next day, I woke up to find my roommates returning from their various homes. At some point in the night, I had proceeded to mix all of the shampoos into one big tub, leaving a note simply stating "This is for the weekend."

Dammit.

I really wish I could remember what that was for. HAD to have been important.