…and in abundance. Though right now my swearing has taken a back burner to the intense irritation that is pent up inside right now because I'm fairly certain that if anything else goes wrong this week, I'm going to be forced to set fire to quite a lot of stuff and/or shoot myself in the head. Yeah, my week has been that great, and it's only @#$%^&* Monday.
I suppose, however, that the decline of my mood didn't start today, so I should clarify that it started Saturday. Yes, I'm still thrilled to have Squeak Fisch, and no (for all you @#$%^&* freaks out there who keep @#$%^&* asking), my cat did not eat it. Kitty and Squeak get along great. Kitty sits in front of Squeak's tank and stares at him, and Squeak swims back and forth in front of Kitty and watches her. That's it. End of story. Stop making retarded "jokes" about my cat eating my fish because I don't appreciate them and I don't find them humorous.
Well, I guess that was part of why my weekend sucked. The rest of it's really long and drawn-out, but let's just say that alcohol makes people not only stupid but downright fucking assholes and that an inkpen in the dryer makes white clothes all spotty. Blue spots. It's a pretty shade of blue, mind you, but they're still on clothes that shouldn't have them there.
Eh, fuck it. Writing this out isn't making me feel any better either. I need chocolate. And a nap. And quite possibly a really huge knife or some explosives. Hmm. Fire. I think I'll go burn something now.
Posted: September 13, 2004 at 6.