I am not offering them coffee, I was going to, but by the sound of the rooster crowing up there I don’t think they need it. Even with all the caffeine for myself, I am, once more, a cantankerous curmudgeon that no amount of coffee can recondition. I thought I left that version of myself rotting in the sun on the beach with what’s left of the Sunday afternoon tourists.
I tried to take a nap in the lull of elephantine stomps and crashes only to find they set up a ladder right outside of my bedroom window. Who can sleep with the glass rattling? I can’t help but feel that one of them may fall through the ceiling at some point.
And the phone keeps ringing! Who is calling! – TODAY?!
The Human bounded out of his bed like nothing was at all wrong in the world so I wonder what is so very wrong with me. Oh yeah, wait. That is it. I am me. I don’t have a penis. My path of life and death has a shorter sine wave and I’m riding the wave to crash.
If at the end of this chaos the roof does not leak. I may declare that it was worth the lost of my ability to do anything very productive.
One more imposed sick day for me.
Sigh angry. Sigh depressed.