Ponderance on Basement Days

Its officially been a whole year since I lived in my parents basement.

And as I look back on those days, I take a sip of my beer, turn up the knob on my shoddy air conditioning unit a couple clicks, and continue typing away on this slow clunky semi functioning desktop computer thinking about the fact that I haven't made my bed since I moved into this joint, listening to those goofy bastards from upstairs doing some sort of rain dance that is clearly audible over these obscure indie rock tunes coming out of generic computer speakers, and how I was thinking about doing laundry tonight but am unable due to the fact that all I have are a couple Sacajawea coins from some downtown Chicago parking attendent which I have been told are worth a dollar even though most refuse to acknowledge them as currency.

And I think to myself if this isn't the American Dream than I don't know what is.