8:00 A.M.

I’m on my way into Manhattan for my appointment with Dr. Zizmor, a.k.a. “Dr. Z.” I think a chemical peel is what I need for some beautiful clear skin. I can’t wait to see my “before” and “after” pictures. I sure hope my Freelancers Union insurance covers this. We are people who know people who need people.

9:32 A.M.

I realize the new Jason Bourne novel is out, so after Dr. Z I pop in to Barnes & Noble and buy the new Covert-One thriller. I immediately start reading this “master of the spy thriller.” I had a hunch this was going to be a “real page turner.”

9:41 A.M.

Thankfully there is a liquor store right beside the Barnes & Noble so I buy some Jameson. There is no wrong way to enjoy a Jameson, so why not do it my way? Taste above all else, right? I’m three chapters deep in the roller-coaster life of Jason Bourne.

10:00 A.M.

I take my third shot of Jameson while walking (again, there’s no wrong way to enjoy it) to the law offices of Fitzgerald & Fitzgerald. Something tells me these two Irish Lawyers are going to want to join me for a nip and a class-action lawsuit. The five-by-five Manhattan Mini Storage room that I rented to keep my five-piece Jennifer Convertibles sectional needs to be bigger, so I’m thinking about suing. Who knew a storage facility with such a good sense of humor would try and rip me off? Fitz & Fitz are awesome dudes and we slam back a couple of Irish whiskeys and upload Instagram pics posing like old-timey fighters.

10:33 A.M.

I have a solid whiskey buzz, which serves as excellent anesthesia for my bunion and hammertoe surgery. It’s minimally invasive and all I had to do was dial 1-877-BUNION-1. Yes, they accepted my Freelancers Union insurance.

11:36 A.M.

I’m pretty drunk at this point and my Southern accent is dominating the words coming out of my mouth. The podiatrist who performed my bunion surgery is having trouble understanding me. No problems here, I’ll just talk louder. That’s not working, so I rush over to the Hotel Pennsylvania for an English lesson. I dialed 1-800-ENGLISH and it was really easy. I was looking to go somewhere whose tuition didn’t cost an arm and a leg. Believe it or not, Bramson ORT College didn’t have the right program for me.

12:00 P.M.

O.K., one more shot of whiskey.

12:45 P.M.

I’m drunk. So, I change my mind about learning English. I need to pick a profession I’m passionate about. I’ve been looking to start a career in music and audio production and the hands-on training I need to get started is right over on Twenty-third Street at Touro College. I hope to meet some really cool people who wear funky sunglasses when they sing and hoodies when they mix music. The D.M.X. program looks promising. I can start as soon as tomorrow.

1:29 P.M.

I finish the bottle of Jameson and search for something with a little more drinkability. Thankfully, Bud Light never slows you down. I pick up a six-pack for the other nine-to-five. It’s always fresh and always refreshing. All day long, I keep saying to myself, “The city orbits around eight million centers of the universe.” Poetry in Motion Sickness is a real thing. I hope I don’t throw up.

2:25 P.M.

After nursing my second Bud Light I realize that “two drinks ago I could still get myself home.” Looks like I’m destined for an ass-kicking this evening. My fighting stance will be the one that my friends at Fitzgerald & Fitzgerald taught me. I can’t remember anything from the last sixty pages I’ve read about Jason Bourne and it doesn’t matter because I realize every book ever written is a “real page turner.” That’s how books work. I make a mental note to tweet this thought.

3:30 P.M.

Attempting to sober up, I sit down on the 4 train. I would’ve offered my seat to a pregnant woman but she didn’t seem pregnant enough. I open a plastic soda bottle and when I pour it into a cup to drink, all I see come out of it is fat. Disgusting. I’m pouring on the pounds today. I should really get my act together and participate in an AIDS walk. “The city orbits around eight million centers of the universe.” Maybe I’ll ride the train to Grand Central.

4:15 P.M.

I see something so I say something. I tell a man not to lean on the door and to be careful when getting on and off the subway. “Sir, please pardon the progress of the M.T.A. The Second Avenue tunnel is going to reduce crowding. These guys are improving, non-stop.” He stares through me with his super-close subway face.

5:00 P.M.

Hey, I didn’t know Kevin James had a moustache and a hand-drawn penis tattoo on his face. How did he let that happen? Oh well. I just realized my bottom teeth sure could use some Invisalign and whitening. Fingers crossed that Freelancers Union health insurance will cover it. I pick up the phone to schedule an appointment, only to realize I don’t get service in the subway. “Improving non-stop”?

6:40 P.M.

Thankfully, somebody finally kicks my ass. I pass out with one thought in my mind: “The city orbits around eight million centers of the universe.”

Illustration by Tibor Karpati.