Last week I was fighting against telephones, cabinets and shitty drivers. I wonder what this week has in store for me…
Item 1: So this week was pretty hippie like, next week is going to turn into a rush week. I already have two deadlines to meet and about a million other things to do. And my lack of sleep isn’t helping. Speaking of which…
Item 2: Sleep schedule still shot to hell. I’m not a night owl, I’m the night owl, and that’s Ms. Night Owl to you! The temptation of a dark, quiet house and a sleeping boyfriend who won’t interrupt my line of thought is insane. So many things I can get done when I can actually hear myself think! So what if I’m up until 3 am, that’s going to fix itself! But then, on top of it all, I get my usual spring sleepiness, because I don’t know, hormones, and because hey, it’s March! Why the hell should I be awake now! And so I’m absolutely unable to crawl out of bed after only six hours. Nope. Brain knows we don’t have to be anywhere, brain’s gonna sleep.
Item 3: Who are you? Why do you insist on ringing my doorbell? Are you scam artists? Possibly. Are your from some department? Bureau? If so, why don’t you just call or send a letter? I can’t find out what you want because I’m not going to open this door! Are you debt-collectors? I don’t have any debt! Hm, maybe I should open the door next time, just to make sure you fuckers don’t have the wrong address… after I placed the heavy frying pan on the shoe rack and slipped a can of mace into my pocket. Not taking any fucking chances.
I’m not paranoid or anything, I’m just hiding under the sofa because it’s cosy.
Item 4: Last Saturday I had a pretty perfect Saturday. This Saturday I’m a) actually awake in the a.m., b) going to construct a contraption to hold up bicycles against an all but sturdy wall. The Engineer and me are donning our experiment caps again. For science!
Item 5: People with baby carriages, the side walk is for use of the public. Meaning everyone, not just you. Do you haaaave to walk two or three abreast (or rather acarriage) with your womb nugget carrying siege engines? I got some 40 pounds of groceries to schlepp home, and I’d be a LOT faster if the two of you would either decide to hurry the hell up or get the hell out of the way. Squeezing sprogs out of your uterus does not come with side walk privileges, get out of my way before I pelt you with my tampons.
Item 6: I don’t care if you’re not even twelve yet, I don’t even care if we’re in public, if you run into me with your fucking razor scooter I WILL call you an asshole. I absolutely WILL shout “Hey asshole, watch where ya rollin’!” after you. Assholery doesn’t have an age limit, and you’re living proof.
Let me end today’s rant with a quick shout-out: DAMN KIDS!