How to Have a Super Day

It's best to start the night before.

Fill a big box with lots of heavy things. Or ski pants. Ski pants work, too.

Put the big box full of heavy things or ski pants on your shoulder...

...just like you're a big tough geezer who works for a living like a dockworker or a stevedore. Or a dockworker. Or Latin.

OK, that was a little obscure. Miriam gets it, though.

Now get really energized about getting the big box into another room two rooms away.

It's best if the room between the Starting Room and the Ending Room, let's call it The Crippler, is so full of crap that you have to go through it sideways, otherwise you'll probably smash your shin into the box in front of the furnace (again), reopening the special Furnace Box Shin Scar that you've been working on for the last year or so since you replaced your furnace.

Ready, go. Once you've got a great big sideways head of steam and you're high-stepping through The Crippler, kind of like your naked dad used to high-step through his organic and therefore bug-eaten garden so he wouldn't shishkebob his male bag on a tomato stick, you're ready for the payoff...

...which is to smash the box of extremely heavy ski pants you've got on your shoulder full-force into a ceiling beam,

making sure not to brace yourself in any way, so the the entire impact is absorbed by the vertebrae in your neck.

Shortly afterwards, Schuyler will say, "Well, at least you didn't swear." Schuyler hates it when I swear. Sophie, always juanita-on-the-spot, will point out that you did in fact swear. "He said the F word, Sky."