Everyone beware. I'm in an unusually vile mood today. Sorry, but there's no love here today, kittens. I hate everyone (except maybe MP. I still love you, baby), especially those mofos on the train who don't know a thing about commuter etiquette and insist on keeping their bags slung over their shoulders or on their backs while I, like an asshole, stand with my bags placed politely between my feet, and get poked, prodded, and molested by purses and backpacks during the ride to work. And work? Work! I love you on most days but, frankly, I have nothing to say to you today but fuck you. I'm done with wankers and bad weather and umbrellas. Could it have gotten any more unseasonable yesterday? I nearly froze in my summer dress and jacket as MP and I ventured on a walk through Jersey City. MP, of course, welcomes unseasonable chills in the air, due mostly to the fact that he's as Canadian as they get, minus the accent, which only makes an appearance when he's overworked and exhausted. We're expecting a lot of that for the next two weeks, so I suppose a fuck you is in order for MP's job. And can we talk about umbrellas? Try holding one above your head as you carry two bags and a cup of coffee that's way too hot. It's not fun, readers. As a matter of fact, I was almost convinced that my umbrella was trying to have me hospitalized this morning.
I need a vacation that's fuckin' longer than three work days and the weekend. That's bullshit and it's miserable.