Good Morning Amer… oh screw off.


There’s something about waking up at 6:45am.  There’s also something about scrambling out of bed thinking I slept through my alarm and need to get ready for work.  Something else?  Yes, there is definitely something about your kid waking up, the dog barking, making coffee and stubbing your toe on the backdoor all before you realize that it’s Saturday.  It’s Saturday.  Saturday means sleeping in.  Saturday means no work and no getting up before the sun.  Saturday means son-of-a-whore-I-am-up-at-6:45-for-no-got-damn-reason.

So as I’m standing out in the front yard, watching the dog, watching the neighbor’s dog, in a robe that is bigger than me,  my neighbor across the street comes out to go to work.

Where’s your boyfriend?

In your backyard burying your girlfriend.



Nice robe there Sarah.

Nice green card.

Damn, cranky much? Why are you awake so early?

Because I obviously want to see your beautiful face first thing, go to work already.

I don’t know why people are so dead set on fucking with me so early in the morning, especially when I haven’t had my coffee.  They call it amusing.  I call it a death wish, if death wishes included having your scrotum stapled to your ceiling.

Eh.  It’s about 8am now, I’m on my second cup of coffee and am pretty much sure I’m still not awake but that’s cool.  I have a lot of stuff to do today, so being up early is helpful.  Now to just coax myself into a hot shower and try to loosen up some muscles so I don’t walk around like I’m old enough for my tits to be hanging by my knees and get moving.


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