Noon lunch hour: A work buddy and I are sitting in my car happily eating our packed lunches and listening to the oldies station. Well, seconds into my home made jell-o I threw down my spoon in a zealous rage. Of all day's to make lime jell-o ---Seriously, I think the last time I ate the stuff I was 13--- on St. Patrick's Day?? He said what's the big deal? Disenchanted I say nothing really. It's just the coincidence is a little off putting. His response, you're weird. No doubt that I am weird. It's just I'm always color coordinated on holiday (this isn't really a big deal) but it happens all the time. It's not a damned celebration! I'm just always uninetentionally festive. Long story short, who cares? Forget about the jell-o. No one gives a damn about the jell-o anymore. Should you? I already don't. It's just, it's not a about that anymore. I'm more concerned about these unexpected bouts of emotion that're starting to make me think that I may not be getting enough sleep at night AGAIN. Sure part of these fits are made for the comedy (of one). But is my office slowly driving me into the intense, detail-oriented kind of person that I hate, who freaks out over flavored jell-o in a parking lot at noon on a Monday? Doubt it. It's probably just boredom.
Also, Holy shit birds, if I have to endure one more night of the shouting and loud sex noises next door to me I may just spontaneously explode at the sound. Hold me.
PS- Edited since Tuesday 4pm. Believe it or not I had to edit my editing.
3 comments:
Argh. You know how I hate loud sex noises! I'm feeling so sorry for you right now.
Last night I slept like a tank so I didn't hear a thing! Also, my apologies for the previous deleted comment.
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