Interruptions and complications
“If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you got a problem. Everything else is inconvenience.” ~Robert Fulghum
I began saying things with extra emphasis and added dramatic flair: “Can you believe that the bar ran out of all hard liquor and then my car blew up and HE is the father of HER child?” Just like that, with much purpose and expression and a little hyperbole. Because if there is anything I know, it is how to be as hyperbolic and exasperated as possible without any really imminent disaster looming.
But that’s how it feels at time: one thing inevitably will need to lead to another equally disastrous circumstance and my death is threatening because of the lack of Pinot Noir at Trader Joe’s and so help me God, if I have to deal with another inept leasing office I’m going to climb through the phone and choke a motherfucker.
Breathing though mandatory seems like something not being done ever. I had the gall to say that I hadn’t been drinking. This said smugly with a pat on the back for being so responsible and not drowning my sorrows in pear flavored vodka. The response was less than optimal, a head shake and an ‘oh honey, now is the time to start drinking. Now run for the hills with that bottle of Tempranillo under your arm.’ Sage advice that landed me in bed until the next day with a headache much like the one I had been experiencing for days on end prior.
I relayed this all to Kris, with a heavy sigh and to Peg with a few choice words and to the women at my leasing office with a few more choice words. All of these incessant things are annoyances, I know this. But the build up of annoyance leaves me thinking that
I said that life is one big shit sandwich. She says that she wants her youth back. I’m left wondering when exactly I lost mine and how I get it back.