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Feeling: Currently listening to... Marky got with Sharon Mikey had a facial scar Tommy played piano They were all in love with dying I don't mind the sun sometimes Cinnamon and sugary Some will die in hot pursuit Some will fall in love with life I don't mind the sun sometimes Cinnamon and sugary Another Mikey took a knife Then there was the ever present Holly caught a bullet They were all in love with dying I don't mind the sun sometimes Cinnamon and sugary
GO THE FUCK TO WORK, DAMMIT. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HAIR.
What sucks worse is that she can't take care of her own errands, again, so who gets stuck with them? She knows I need to work on the front brakes on my car, but instead she's sending me to the grocery store, she's sending me to the post office, and get this: she's sending me to FedEx a check because she's too damned sorry to take a payment to mail, so now I have to go overnight it for her.
Pathetic.
I'm tired of being trapped down here in this uncomfortable chair, in this room that would make a certified agoraphobe claustrophobic, stuffed to the gills with books I don't have the concentration span to read anymore, because she can't see fit to leave the damned house. If this doesn't let up soon she's going to leave the house... in a damned body bag.
You know what sucks? I can't get a grip because of this. She's stressing me out. I wish I could just go to bed and render myself unconscious for days on end, being away from her, but I can't.
Meanwhile, I have to listen to the unintelligible roar of the TV on some stupid daytime stress-out talk show or know-it-all court show crap. And I have the weekend coming up to look forward to, too.
Just kill me now. Why can't it be like yesterday? Mood of the day is hard to deal with, because you can't plan ahead, or try to know how you're going to feel to try to accomplish anything. It's mentally exhausting.
I have this fantasy. It goes something like this:
So they come, and discover that I fixed up one room or the room over the garage or something. They have to share it.
And so, they try it. After about an hour they kill each other.
I hope this can never be used in evidence against me. I mean, it's not like I'd do anything. It helps to blow off steam, though.
(Geez, lighten up, and maybe I'll try to do the same.)
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