Taunting me with moments of mild accomplishment like doing laundry or replacing that damn annoying computer fan, then pulling me in front of a PowerPoint presentation for class tomorrow sucks. It sucks because it sat open and ignored all damn night.
You know what else Wednesday? I blame Admiral Fallon’s resignation squarely on you. He technically resigned on a Tuesday, but no you had to bring him into the future with me. Since a completely illegal and un-justifiable war with Iran (in any sense, seriously, there is no reason to attack these people) was being prevented by his continuing presence in the administration, now that he’s gone I fear for the worst.
Fortunately he looks totally OK with it.
Really I shouldn’t blame Wednesday so much as Thursday, because if I didn’t have to go in to school tomorrow to teach lessons to lame-duck (post-exam) students about to be free of oral communication forever, I might actually be OK with being awake at 4am.
The final kicker came when I realized I had nothing left to eat in the apartment that didn’t require preparation or eggs when I remembered my obscenely over sized jar of pickles from CostCo. I hope someone, somewhere was hacking my webcam at the moment when I tried in vein to open that damn jar. With each futile struggle I could see visions of a future in a basement somewhere, with a larger monitor and a larger stomach. A desk littered with post-it’s from my mom about the store being out of Gushers for the 3rd week in a row, but secretly I knew she was just trying to ween me off them.
I shuddered and put the jar back in the closet. Going to bed hungry has more dignity that wrestling with a prophetic pickle jar.
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