Monday Morning

My life seems to be a series of Monday mornings now a days.

I was up early, 6am. (not early for me, but, you know, early for most) You’ve got to love working from home, I love working from home. Sign in, start working. (I don’t start with a coffee any more, to cut down on the coffees I drink per day) 

I got everything done by 8am, when Sam got up. I chatted to him for a bit. He fed the dogs. I made coffee. Don’t you just love the smell of coffee in the house in the morning.

9am. I started thinking about breakfast.

9.05am. All the dummies start emailing me stuff, as the cut off is midday. Like clockwork it all started flooding into my inbox. “Grrrrr!”

They have all the time in the world to get stuff to me, before this, but humans being what humans are, they will try to get everything to me in an hour, or so. It is very annoying.

I’m done, you bastards… but the cut off is the cut off, what can you do?

I made up a little song, which I sand, as I made breakfast.

ALL THE DUMB CUNTS, ALL THE DUMB CUNTS, START SENDING ME STUFF, ALL THE DUMB CUNTS, ALL THE DUMB CUNTS. WILL SEND ME STUFF.

JUST SHUT UP ALL YOU DUMB CUNTS, ALL YOU DUMB CUNTS, ALL YOU DUMB CUNTS, JUST SHUT UP ALL YOU DUMB CUNTS, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP. 

THE WORLD HAS TOO MANY DUMB CUNTS, TOO MANY DUMB CUNTS, TOO MANY DUMB CUNTS, THE WORLD HAS TOO MANY DUMB CUNTS. TOO MANY DUMB CUNTS THE WORLD HAS! 

WE WOULD ALL GET ALONG JUST FINE WITHOUT YOU DUMB CUNTS, WITHOUT YOU DUMB CUNTS, WITHOUT YOU DUMB CUNTS. WE WOULD ALL GET ON JUST FINE WITHOUT YOU DUMB CUNTS, WITHOUT YOU DUMB CUNTS! WE’D GET ON FINE.

SHUT UP DUMB CUNTS, SHUT UP DUMB CUNTS, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!

(Oh, it was Monday morning, I was delirious)

COME ON NOW, EVERYBODY SING A LONG!

Sam came into the kitchen, looked me in the eye, and told me to, “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

As we are the only ones here, I wondered who he was shutting me up for? (bad grammar withstanding) “Wat?”

“Nobody wants to hear your stupid song.”

I was hurt. “I’m hurt.”

“Make me coffee.”

“SHUt… um… okay, honey.”

“You are only making my ears bleed.”

“I thought it was a good song.’

“You kid yourself.”

I’m not ashamed to admit to a pearl clutch. “Et tu Brute?”