I am not now, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever be a morning person. I hate them. This morning I woke up extra tired and out of sorts, so I'm warning the world: You probably don't want to talk to me until at least noon today.
My weekend, while productive, was over too quickly.
I do not want to go to work today.
I do not feel like dealing with the traffic on 270.
I am not in the mood for any bullshit, of which there will surely be some.
My stupid neighbors who I see every morning while walking Seamus -- a man and his daughter waiting for the school bus -- flat out refuse to acknowldge our presence. It's like we're not even walking directly in front of them and saying good morning. Annoying, but whatever. This morning it practically irritated me to the point of violence. Or at least to the point of letting Seamus poop on their lawn. I totally should have. Jerks.
I came back from our walk promising myself a nice cup of chai to try and make the morning better. But I forgot I used up all the milk last night making a potato and leek gratin. Now I'm mad at myself. Fucking self. Cooking with the milk and using it all up so inconsiderately.
Well, I'm off to share the little ray of sunshine that is me with the rest of the world. If you see me while it is still morning you may want to back away slowly.
Agreed. Mornings should be outlawed - I hear that this may be true on tropical islands. :)