SILENCE IS GOLDEN ...
Silence is golden, and, in my case, something that I needed to do here. Otherwise, I was going to rant and rave endlessly about a myriad of items that have been causing a general malaise in my writer's mind, and the end result would have been to make any number of folks mad just on general purposes.
The end of the school year is not my friend. Ever. The older I get, the bumpier the road for the two of us is.
People annoy me. It's a broad statement, I know. It's true, though. Don't bother whining to me about your insignificant problems like not being able to schedule a proper mani and pedi appointment. I don't care to know that you are mad at your neighbor due to the sheer volume of Republican candidates' yard signs they have in their yard -- those misguided dinguses, you say. I am unconcerned with the bad service you received at your local fast food joint. Frankly, I don't give a ... well, you know where I'm headed with this one. Rhett Butler was one articulate SOB, no?
I am tired ... I am cranky ... I am out of sorts, and I'm not to be bothered with trivial items like the color of your socks. It just doesn't matter to me.
It might be necessary to sequester myself yet again this weekend ... not fit for human interaction ...
But first I get to go and get my hair 'did, wherein, I will sit with a sour expression on my face, arms crossed in front of me, and will dream of mean and nasty ways to annoy children ... because that's what my students all think I do anyway.
The end of the school year is not my friend. Ever. The older I get, the bumpier the road for the two of us is.
People annoy me. It's a broad statement, I know. It's true, though. Don't bother whining to me about your insignificant problems like not being able to schedule a proper mani and pedi appointment. I don't care to know that you are mad at your neighbor due to the sheer volume of Republican candidates' yard signs they have in their yard -- those misguided dinguses, you say. I am unconcerned with the bad service you received at your local fast food joint. Frankly, I don't give a ... well, you know where I'm headed with this one. Rhett Butler was one articulate SOB, no?
I am tired ... I am cranky ... I am out of sorts, and I'm not to be bothered with trivial items like the color of your socks. It just doesn't matter to me.
It might be necessary to sequester myself yet again this weekend ... not fit for human interaction ...
But first I get to go and get my hair 'did, wherein, I will sit with a sour expression on my face, arms crossed in front of me, and will dream of mean and nasty ways to annoy children ... because that's what my students all think I do anyway.
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