I’d like to think I don’t hate anyone. Except people who tell me their infants started sleeping through at six months. I have nothing but violence in my heart for those people.
My children are killing me. Slowly. With their disruptive affect on my circadian rhythm. I think I slept maybe three hours last night. I remember looking at my phone at about one fifteen having still not fallen asleep. The twenty month old headbutting me (repeatedly) in the eye-socket and then crying when she scrapes her face on my stubble. Woke up at four thirty with the other one thrashing around in her bedroom and kicking over her bedside lamp.
I am the walking dead, auto-piloting myself through my daily grind of brushing my teeth… wait… did I? *runs his tongue across his incisors* I’m not sure now.
Hmmm…
I need coffee. Preferably intravenously. And maybe administered by the Hookups nurse. Which might be late 90’s skate-board culture obscura. Imagine overly large mammary glands stuffed into the ubiquitous caregivers uniform, only two sizes too small.
Now that I think about it. I still have one of those shirts somewhere.
Look at those bags under my eyes! This shirt is at least twenty years old now though. That feels… crazy to me. Also clear evidence that while I have gotten older… I certainly haven’t grown up.
I think I’d be reticent to wear this out these days. Ha ha. Although maybe not. Depends on how antagonistic or heterodox I was feeling. I’m sure this haberdashery has a word-salad of negative connotations attached to it and ergo all manner of inferences that can be made about the wearer.
Some of which might be true for all I know.
Cauliflower is a gateway vegetable. Next thing you know you’re wearing orange and living in a yurt.
Ha ha. I’m listening to an audiobook as I type. This genuinely made me laugh out loud since I have recently become an adherent of cauliflower ‘rice’. I’m not sure orange if my color though. Although living in a Yurt might be cool. As long as it came with Wi-Fi.
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Go Darke 