Vacation

One day I won’t have to rob Peter to pay Paul, but until then fuck it. I’m going to Cape Town! Yes buddy. Cape Town during peak season and I’m going to enjoy every single minute of it. That’s why my lawn is overgrown into what looks like a field of apathy. You know what it is? It’s a field of dreams. Dreams that I’ll be able to save up enough Pula to go on a vacation proper. I’ve obsessively scrimped and saved on everything but food. I make all my own bread which is cheaper than buying that nasty stale stuff that costs too much because of the global food crisis. I indulge on food, but my curmudgeonly ways have suited me. I wear parsimony well. My jeans are all ripped to shreds with the exception of one pair that I took out of Jessica B’s trunk. They’re the only pair of jeans still intact. I reuse EVERYTHING. I take the cheapest mode of transport. No taxis. I don’t leave my village much. No weekend trips into the capital. Why do I punish myself so? Because I’m going to Cape Town Baby!