Good grief, my drooges.
As old Uncle Lou once said:
I am tired, I am weary.
I could sleep for a thousand years.
Unfortunately, no pocky for kitty on that front. Snoop jobby job's got one more day in store for me.
As I type this, on the verge of passing out, a thought occurs to me: when I started this blog, I promised I'd share salsa recipes and love letters to Ann Coulter with the world. Well, truth be told, I have no recipes, and Ann, she walks in beauty like the night, but she defies all words, to say the very least.
But here is one recipe I do know, for certain.
Recipe for a Shitty Day
- 1 writing assignment that you've worked on all week but can't seem to get the hang of
- 3 hours of sleep (use organic insomnia if you have it in the house)
- 1 looooong work day
- no dinner
- 3 hours of class (directly following the aforementioned work day)
- a group reading of the aforementioned writing assignment in the aforementioned class
- the realization that you have grossly misunderstood the assignment
- your teacher euthanizing your writing assignment before its group reading is completed
- having to take notes from your class on your incorrect assignment that was not fully read aloud
- 1 rainy, humid night
- 1 piece of pizza
- 1 long train ride and walk home
The recipe above feeds one person.
Wowee. It all looks so beautiful when you lay it out together like that. I am beyond ready to cash in for the night.
Methinks I shall listen to my newly acquired Ted Leo album, wherein Sir Leo performs a rollicking cover of the Chumbawamba anthem "Rappoport's Testament: I Never Gave In."
I think for every minute you listen to that song, you won't live any longer for it, but you'll at least enjoy that minute. Sounds good enough to me.
Update - I knew I'd turn that frown upside down: I just looked at the title of this entry and remembered with a smile that my blog pages are searchable on the Internets. Which means that this site will soon be flooded with teenage girls and emo boys who look like teenage girls in search of Bright Eyes lyrics. And instead, they'll find this stupid site. Oh, the humanity. It's glorious.
And you know what the good book says: "Every time a Bright Eyes fan clicks the wrong URL, an angel gets its wings."
Now I'm ready to turn in for the evening. :)