Monday, March 06, 2006

She's Breaking Up, She's....

I knew it was gonna be a sucky day when I had trouble getting up. Not just (stretch yawn) “ooh boy, I’m tired”, but more like (creak smash) “FAAACK, fackin’ mornings fackin’ hate ‘em.” Didn’t do nuthin’ outstanding last night (saw “Walk the Line”, finally, and now I can’t get that song outta my head). Just, well, it’s snowing, and the barometric pressure always messes with my head.

Okay, the snow…it better go away, and fast, ‘cause I’m getting tired of winter and will go postal on it’s fluffy white ass.

Then on the way to work, got stopped by a train. Okay, not just stopped. The TRAIN was stopped. DEAD. On the tracks. With cops all around. And pissed-off people. Managed to turn my car around and go several miles to another cross street where it should be safe…but NO…train there too. Waited a few minutes. Managed a turn-around. Went back to original street, thinking Dead Train would be moving now. OF COURSE FACKIN’ NOT. Went BACK to the second place, train had cleared there, and got to work half an hour later than I wanted.

Muffler is dying. Car is LOUD. Made an appointment to take it in this morning, made an appointment to pick up rental car down the street from muffler dude. I don’t need this running around shite.

Kid stuff tonight. Work today. Had a very lovely breakfast of carrots and leftover crab dip, and now breath smells like onions. And Decaf Coffee.

All I need is for the Crimson Permanent Assurance to sail three days early and my day would be fuckin’ complete.

Bastards. Everything is bastards today.

(One good thing…yesterday I took the “Bag of Bottles and Critter” and dumped it out in the backyard (thanks, Butch Stroll, for the suggestion). I found…bottles…and…no vermin. Which means one of two things: 1) The critter got out of the bag in a survival-of-the-fittest “FACK IT’S COLD” struggle for life, or B) There never was a critter, and the scratching sound was actually a soda bottle that had expanded a wee bit from leftover soda in there, and in the warmth of the living room was making bubbles out the top of the loose cap. Either way…no body, no crime.)


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