Waking up and getting out of bed in the cold this morning was, hmmm, how can I put this eloquently… like getting fuckslapped by a frozen snoek! A snoek…. With bad intentions! With their beady black eyes and stupid… bones… and fins and stuff. Don’t know if you noticed, but I am not in the mood to do anything besides stay in my pyjamas today, possibly with a frozen marghuerita in one hand, and a cup of Milo in the other (because life is all about balance people!)
But nooooooooo, I must earn a salary to keep the wolverines from my door, and now I just feel like beating people with a potato sack full of SYPHILIS because THAT’S what happens when you make me get out of bed when I. Don’t. Want. To!
I need a serious life change, because there is something very wrong with waking up every morning and doing that toddler type vloermoer where your back arches and you beat the bed with your fists while wailing “why don’t you just kick me right in the vagina Universe!!” Fuuuuuuuck.
Dalekins: *takes a sip of coffee*
Dalekins: “Are we going to do this every morning?”
Me: “Just… go on without me Dale.” *brings hand up out of under duvet and waves him away without looking up*
There has got to be more joy here.
Why can’t I ever wake up like those chicks in the mattress ads, all smiley with flowy dresses on and shit, looking like they just can’t wait to take on the day. Well either they’re really ready to take on the day or they have just had a number 2 of epic proportions… I decide this on my mood at the time.
I need a good idea for a book so I can write it, give up my day job, get stinking rich, live in a castle and all I HAVE to do all day is swim in my fucking money and play with my pet tiger Squishy. Either that or Dalekins needs to work harder so I can become a lady of leisurrrrre! But every time I say that to him he starts looking around for blunt objects and that makes me well… sad that I forgot to stipulate that in our pre-nup. (Next time!)
Why won’t you give me a good idea for a book Universe, Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!
