Uncategorized

I Hate Today

Today is one of the worst days of the year. It’s the first day of Autumn. That means Summer is officially over. It’s all down hill from here. Everything is going to die and turn ugly brown and then freeze. I hate this time of year. I mean, there are a lot of things to love. Leaf Peeping is great. Sleeping with the windows open and the blankets pulled up to your eye brows is sweet. Baseball playoffs. Hockey. There’s a lot to love. Still, I find the fall depressing. It’s not a season of it’s own, it’s just the ramp up to Winter. I loathe Winter.

This time of year the traffic is unbearable and you can’t get anything done without suffering through a mass of people who seem to have forgotten how to pay attention to what is going on around them. My 8.5 hour work day becomes 12 hours because it takes so damn long to get there and back.

The trees die, the flowers die, the grass dies. The only thing that doesn’t die is the effing garter snake I just found in the cellar. I was really hoping we were finished with those slithery little assholes. I didn’t have anything down there that I could kill it with. I tried squashing it with the cat’s old scratching post but it just lay there takin’ it like it was nothing. I actually heard it say, “That all you got, fat boy?” The little asshole. Hey, why don’t you use your arms and legs… oh… sorry. You don’t have any! BAM! Sick burn you little reptilian puke.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, here’s a big hearty double freedom rockets right up in your ugly face, Fall. Kiss my incredibly fat ass.

You too, snake. You suck.

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s