Right now I want to kill someone. I'm in a rage.
I woke up in an okay mood this morning, but then a bunch of little things started happening that just pissed me off - way more than it should've, granted, but still. I'm PMSing, ok??
I left to go and get some McDonalds' breakfast - a damn sausage biscuit b/c they're only $0.69 and I'm broke as fuck. (Really, my lunch today & supper tonight will come from the $0.99 menu at Wendy's - there's no food in the house either).
As I step out onto my patio, I'm blinded by the gleaming, white concrete. The stupd-idiot-fucks that my landlord calls "maintenance men" came by this past Thursday and pressure washed all the sidewalks. This sounds like a good thing, and it would be if these men weren't such stupid-idiot-fucks. Last time they came they did a "touch up" paint job on the exterior of the place. In stupid-idiot-fuck language this means smearing some paint on a few dark spots and leaving the more obvious stains and chipping paint alone. Why? I dare not ask. I could've cared less about their feeble attempts at fixing up except they dripped paint all over my patio. There was more paint on my plants, barbq pit and Templar cross (that I'd just recently bought in New Orleans) than on the damn walls!!! I was furious about the cross - I called my landlord up and complained. He sent the fucktards back and they cleaned it up.
So this morning I step out and notice the rug has been moved a little - likely from the cats running across it at break-neck speeds - and the cement showing from under it is grotesque! It's made even more garish by the clean, white cement all around it. Somehow the stupid-idiot-fucks managed to break a flower pot and shoot my cat bowl half across the patio whilst cleaning but they were too damn lazy to pick up the mats and spray under them!! I hate them.
So I go to McDonalds - pissed off because my $0.69 biscuit is $1.08 with tax - get home and realize the dumb bitch didn't put any fucking napkins in my bag! Grrrr I have no napkins at my desk, where I'm eating, and I'm not about to get off my crippled ass and hobble down the stairs for ONE paper towel. I have nothing to wipe my crumbly, greasy hands on. Murder is now on my mind (I've always thought the asshats at that particular McDick's must be related to the stupid-idoit-fucks my landlord employs as "maintenance men").
So I'm sitting here, pissed off, PMSing, greasy...but at least not hungry. I think I'll go listen to some cool, calming music now...Sunday mornings are always a perfect time for jazz....