Not The Greatest Of Mornings
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And then there's the fact that if I really wanted the metaphysical equivalent of a bug-zapper to startle the holy fuck out of me when I walk into the bathroom, I'd damned well PUT one there.
In other news... *shakes her head* ...theunre, you've my wishes for better days... and I could really use a bit of conversation, among other things. I need someone to ground me and I've no real intention of asking anyone else. Too many complications around here already.
Seriously, I'm considering taking my pens, the Book, and a blade or two and just disappearing for a few days. I'm far too on-edge this morning, and I can't figure out entirely why, but it's really getting to me. Oh, wait, no, I know at least part of why, and it's not something I'll rant about in-depth here, other than to say that goddammit I did NOT sign up to get involved in anyone else's war, nor do I particularly WANT to, and for that matter I'm not thrilled about my quite WELL-warded-thank-you house being invaded by ANYTHING. You have troubles? Keep them out, send them to someone else, whatever the fuck it takes, just Do Not Bring Them Here Dammit.
And I can't even SAY that because gods know it's not like they have anywhere else to go, and it is my responsibility to take care of them to some degree and... just... ARGH. I want to scream. I want to seriously hurt someone. I want to throw things. I want to be back in yesterday, asleep.
I want to stop feeling so goddamned bitchy.
And hey, while I'm at it, I want a million dollars and a nice new van. *wry grin* If wishes were fishes.
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