Crack The Shutters

It's raining. Again. (Sarcastic yaaaayyyy.)

It's very freaking early, and as you all know, I loathe early mornings. Detest them. I was sooo tempted to just roll over, pull my blanket over my head, and doze on, continuing to dream about being on a boat with T-Pain (anyone who has heard that song should be cracking up right now) and Thomas the Tank Engine (watched it right before I went to sleep with Nicky). Damn this working shit. Really.

My good pal Kenny just brought me a delicious morning treat of fresh Cini-Minis from our local BK (Burger King for those not in the know), and though I'm not hungry yet, I certainly appreciate the gesture of goodwill. I will probably eat them a bit later. Like elevenish, because if I eat this early, I'll either A.) get sick, or B.) pass out at my desk, or C.) both. I'm still somewhat in a sleep-clouded fog, and I'm hoping it's going to be a slow news day today at the Lakewood store, because I am exhausted. I sure could use a Subaru snooze today.

I'm reading the morning news, and I like this quote from President Obama: "Our kids can't all aspire to be the next LeBron or Lil Wayne. I want them aspiring to be scientists and engineers, doctors and teachers, not just ballers and rappers. I want them aspiring to be a Supreme Court justice. I want them aspiring to be president of the United States."

Indeed. I think that kids should want to grow up to be scientists, because hey, science is cool even though I still don't know how to balance formulas in Chemistry, and I once cried when I couldn't figure out the mole during a Chem test, I always liked setting stuff on fire and playing with chemicals. That is the best part of Chemistry class, hands down. I dreamed of wanting to be a singer, to be the next Mariah Carey when I was little, but I also wanted to be a ballerina (until I realized I'm clumsy and can't dance), a doctor (until I realized that I'm just not good in math or math-related sciences), a teacher (until I realized I don't exactly have patience with children outside of my own), and now I want to be a lawyer because hey, I'm pretty good at forming sound arguments (except with certain boys, and then my logic and coherency embarrassingly fly out the window) and I like the whole court scene. Personally, I believe kids deserve a chance to dream, whether it be aspiring to win a Grammy or the Nobel Peace Prize.

Hmmm...You know what's a funny word? Gubernatorial. It makes me giggle a little on the inside.

It's going to be a pretty random day. Pretty random indeed. I wouldn't have it any other way.

No sir and/or ma'am.

Another Day

It's Friday, and I am sooo tired.

I work from 8 am to 6 pm on Fridays and Saturdays, and you'd think I'd be used to getting up at the asscrack of dawn, seeing as how I've been doing this for about a year and a half...But then again, I never got used to getting up at 6:30 am when I was in school, and that was 12 years worth of 6:30 ams. Oh well. I guess some people are crazy morning people who frolick about in the morning sunshine, singing Disney-esque songs as they skip all la-la-la like down the sidewalk with the sparrows, and then there are people like me, who pretty much live their lives like rock stars, staying up all night and then sleeping away a good chunk of daytime. I used to spend a huge amount of my summer vacations past passed out until 2 pm.

Those were the good days, my friend. I never realized how good I had it until I had to get a job my junior year of high school!


But back to now (as Garth Algar from the cinematic classic Wayne's World would say, "Live in the now!"), and the having to wake up at a very unreasonable hour. It is a very sunny and warm, dare I say hot, day in the city of Cleveland. It's supposed to reach a pleasant (note the sarcasm) and balmy 88 degrees...When I roll out of here later today, the air will be rife with mugginess, and I will be a walking pillar of sweat and frizz when I arrive at my equally sticky, un-air conditioned house.

Yesssssss.

And yuck. There's another fly in the office, flying around being all flyish and gross. I wish I could be gangsta like President Obama and just be like bam and kill it...but not with my hand, 'cause that would be gross, and I would most likely puke.

Puking is not a choice option, especially when it's hotter than hell outside. I opted instead for opening the office door, which will undoubtably bring hot air into the office, but hopefully will inspire the aforementioned fly to go out and enjoy the glorious day.