Brain wash

Today is one of those mornings where I am struggling to come up with something to write about. I hate these mornings. I blame one of my drinking companions at the bar last night. He put this idea about how bad Dial soap is and how I should write about how terrible it is. It’s been stuck in my head and has kept me from digging into anything else.

So fine, I’ll write about the damn soap. My friend said he was not very happy with this soap because of its concave surface. Every time he was in the shower, using the soap, it would squirt from his grasp and tumble into the tub. While I don’t consider this too great of a tragedy my friend felt it was a significant design flaw with the bar of soap and he was nonplussed.

He was so upset with this soap that he took the two remaining bars and gave them to some of his employees to take home and test. He wanted them to verify that the soap was just god awful. Thanks to alcohol I don’t remember if I asked him if his employees provided him with any results.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system I can move onto other topics of greater gravity. Which are…damn it.  I am still thinking about the damn soap. I need to get this story out of my head. I tried to write about how cruel it is that I can now see into my neighbors second floor apartment (because he doesn’t believe in curtains and it’s his own fault) where he and his new girlfriend are constantly cuddling and laying all over each other on his couch. It’s complete and utter jealousy on my part. I want a girlfriend to cuddle with and share things with and make a spectacle of ourselves in my apartment windows.

But I’m stuck thinking about damn soap. I don’t recall ever using Dial soap, I’m sure I have in the past but it doesn’t stick out in my memory. What does stick out is my stupid neighbor and his sexy girlfriend writhing all over each other while I’m just trying to eat a microwave burrito and stare at them. It’s not a pervert or peeping Tom thing. It’s pure jealousy. This guy, he never goes out. I’ve seen him on that couch playing Xbox or whatever he has, every night. Even on Friday’s and Saturday’s he’s just there, sitting on his couch, shirtless, eating. And yet now, somehow, he’s got a cute little girlfriend who seems to hang on everything he does. While I go out all the time (well, to a few bars) and meet people constantly, yet I sit alone; jealous of my young neighbor.

I wonder if I should ask him what soap he uses.