sleepless nights.
OH.MY.GOD.
What the hell is wrong with the last 72 hours of my life?
I cannot sleep due to the swarms of mosquitos living in my apartment. I have never had so many bites in my life. I was uncomfortably hot but wore a sweater to bed last night just to try to shield my body from the little devils. I have probably slept a dozen or so miserable hours in the last three nights. Then today Roscoe had to poo at five in the morning, so I took him outside. Then he took a shit and seeing as I was practically sleepwalking I forgot to check the bag for holes. So guess what happened?
Yep, poo fingers. The biggest fear of my life (aside from drowning) chased me down at five in the fucking morning. So, disguisting as that was, I didn't think my life could be worse. Then as we were passing the Brooklyn Casket Co. two of the workers were opening up shop and, naturally, Ros thought that was an ideal time to take another shit. And I didn't have an extra bag with me. So those guys clearly thought I was some lunatic bitch that walks dogs in her pajamas with neon orange socks. And doesn't clean up after him?
Ugh. By the time I got home I 'd decided that since I would have to venture back outdoors to clean up this new pile of poo, I might as well just go to work afterward. I was wide awake with fury anyway. So I did. And that's where I am. And have been for an hour now. At 7:00 in the morning.
And Jill Munroe and that amazing werecat man died. Fuck the world is how I feel!
What the hell is wrong with the last 72 hours of my life?
I cannot sleep due to the swarms of mosquitos living in my apartment. I have never had so many bites in my life. I was uncomfortably hot but wore a sweater to bed last night just to try to shield my body from the little devils. I have probably slept a dozen or so miserable hours in the last three nights. Then today Roscoe had to poo at five in the morning, so I took him outside. Then he took a shit and seeing as I was practically sleepwalking I forgot to check the bag for holes. So guess what happened?
Yep, poo fingers. The biggest fear of my life (aside from drowning) chased me down at five in the fucking morning. So, disguisting as that was, I didn't think my life could be worse. Then as we were passing the Brooklyn Casket Co. two of the workers were opening up shop and, naturally, Ros thought that was an ideal time to take another shit. And I didn't have an extra bag with me. So those guys clearly thought I was some lunatic bitch that walks dogs in her pajamas with neon orange socks. And doesn't clean up after him?
Ugh. By the time I got home I 'd decided that since I would have to venture back outdoors to clean up this new pile of poo, I might as well just go to work afterward. I was wide awake with fury anyway. So I did. And that's where I am. And have been for an hour now. At 7:00 in the morning.
And Jill Munroe and that amazing werecat man died. Fuck the world is how I feel!
