Stick A Fork In Me.

Last night I had a dream that my bed was made of crabs. I dont know what kind of Freudian mind fuck this comes from, and if I were to hazard a guess, well let's just say I would rather not hazard any damn guess at all. The point though, and let me know if this is obvious, is that such a dream led to a night of extreme tossing and turning.

I woke up this morning to a bed that could have easily been a crime scene, or a porn set. My sheet was twisted in a tight rope that wrapped itself not once, but fully twice around my leg and two of three pillows had decided to save themselves the abuse and had hurled themselves across the room.

And none of this means much in the grand scheme of things except that it is completely indicative as to the kind of day I have had.

I took the morning off to pay off my debt to karma/the Man, and visited the DMV. Figuring that if I got there right as they opened, I had a snowballs chance of not spending my golden years in a plastic chair designed by sadists. Running in at 9:15 (turns out I dont actually know how to get places right when they open), I am greeted by the saint peter of the DMV that hands me ticket number that reads G41. Seriously. Im not even in the A's. It's 9:15 and I am half way down the effing alphabet. I will cut out the grimy details, but suffice it to say my sad sack didnt get back in my car until 11:40.

Finally, sweating, (it is inexplicably 95 degrees outside. Its like God watched me put my summer clothes in storage and then decided to have a chuckle.) I made it into the office and realized I forgot my wallet to buy me some coffee. Which was the only thing that got me through my morning trek across bureaucracy.

I went to my next three meetings de-caffeinated and am only now getting around to checking email. Which, unlike the coffee in my system, is plentiful.

The moral here is, Im done. Im completely drained of any milk of human kindness, and fresh out of any give-a-damn. And its only Thursday. Which of course, is why the Lord invented wine.