Crabby Monday

Didn’t sleep much last night. I’m convinced that I have that weirdy leg thing.


Of course, I may also have this.


Needless to say, I’m easily marketable.

Anyway, maybe it’s the holidays though I love them, so I’d think not. Maybe it’s the constant bickering that has become my life as of recent days. Maybe it’s that I’m listening to Helen Reddy or that my sweet doggie has an ear infection that I should have prevented by cleaning his sweet little ears. Maybe it’s that I needed a day for myself and I came home to hear that Ubs called for me all day and missed me desperately. Or maybe it’s that the damn brow sock tainted my bleached white load.

Dude, it’s the brown sock. I am that fucking brown sock. Try as I do; sort, select right temp, add bleach and detergent, place clothes within, leave to soak (I know, impressive…folks that soak impress me), return (displays vigilance – not leaving to soak and deteriorate for days), start the cycle, return to place in the dryer (all of this over the course of one, single day) and find a freakin’ tainted load of laundry.

Not good enough
Not considerate enough
Not organized enough. Look at me.
Look
At
Me
Nothing has changed
I simply remain
Who I am
Who I’ve been
A brown sock
Fuck off