Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick
That ticking sound? It's the sound of my head with the pin pulled. Best get behind something, I'm about to scatter shrapnel.
I am having some sort of rage disorder today. You asked me for a pudding? A PUDDING? YOU asked ME for A PUDDING?!?
Really, go on. Ask me anything. I'll make it a problem. The weather? You asked ME about THE WEATHER?
This is a sad, sad offshoot of the happy busy brain of late spring 2005. Last time I was a creative genius. This time I'm just angry. Irrationally so, I might add.
In any case, I'm eating the last pudding cup (hah! take that!) and getting ready to fold a load of towels, the only laundry task that I enjoy. Mmmm. Warm towels, fresh from the dryer, folded into thirds, and piled on the shelf. It's orderly and tidy looking, and housewifey to the max. Unlike folding underwear, which, no matter what you do, just doesn't end up folded square, stacked neatly. Which makes me upset today.
Next, there's a toss up between pulverizing concrete with a sledgehammer, or pulverizing a bag of tortilla chips with my teeth. I'm thinking chips are the way to go. Damn my lack of construction projects! I could really use some demolition right about now.
This is what Bill Bixby must have felt like when he transformed into Lou Ferrigno. I guess it is too much to hope for that I will turn into some sort of eight-foot-tall bronzed goddess with lazer-beam eyes and abs of steel. No, I am transforming into a bitter shrew with sweatpant-clad Dorito butt.
Fear my wrath.