It is going to be a Very Bad Day for anyone who crosses my path. I already have it out for the asshole neighbor's son whose car alarm went off at 6:30 this morning. I lay in bed, drafting the perfect passive-aggressive note to leave under the windshield. We live in a small town. No one is going to steal your precious Volkswagen. Stop arming the alarm because the fucking thing always goes off. I have it in for this kids parents too, and their useless yappy poodle-mutt. That was at about 8am as I fantasized about throwing every rotten tomato from my plants at its curly white fur until it shut the fuck up. This is after I had hurled every verbally abusive insult and threat to my cats. Why am I in such a foul mood? Because as I write this, it is 9:37am and I still have not been to sleep.
Granted, since I have nothing to tire me out and give me a "normal" bed time, I sleep a third-shifter schedule: bed around 4, awake around 1. It works out reasonably well for me at present, and I get a lot of reading done. But last night I tossed and turned and even Pandora pissed me off with the music it was giving me (Loreena McKinnet? Really? Useless pseudo-Celtic wailing that all sounds the same. I thought I told you never to play her again, Pandora. We're fighting.). It was too warm, so I did the one leg covered thing. Then I was too cold. Then the fucking cats wouldn't stop their running bullshit. Even when the crows woke up it didn't ease me to sleep. So I pulled out a book, a bodice-ripper, but that made me mad, because it had to be the stereotypical Scottish Highland setting and the author just had to write in dialect. Jesus fucking Christ, I just wanted to sleep!
I gave up. I screamed at the cats one more time and felt bad so I brushed them and told them they were good girls but they just need to stop already. Hopefully soon I can pass out here on the couch but man, if I don't get some sleep, violence will probably happen. Either that or a long drive to loud music to calm me down.