The Wrong Side of the Bed
I woke up annoyed. I was sleeping peacefully and a decent hour for the first time in weeks. The fu** buddy calls me at damn near midnight (I'm a working woman now, so yes, that is late) trying to come over. Had to decline, even though I swear I haven't gotten any since Brad and Jennifer split. (yes, for me, that is a long time). Couldn't get back to sleep for another hour. Woke up 20 minutes late. My roomie has company, so I'm tippy-toeing through my apartment, which is the size of a matchbox. Waited untill the last minute to moisturize my feet, and when I put on my strappy sandals, my feet were sliding out of them with every step that I took. I missed my bus and had to wait for a later one, which made me late for my I'd-rather-watch-paint-dry-than-be-there temp job. Got to work, and had to make coffee (joy) which came out horrible because, here's a news flash, that's not particularly where my expertise lies. I have to answer two phones today because someone is out, and of course, one of the phones is another office. My knees touch the top of my formerly-a-coffee-table desk, so you can imagine how much it has been jumping up and down to get the phone. I have coffee breath and no gum. Sigh. I definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but somehow I suspect that I may have fallen asleep there.
posted by DramaQueen @ 11:42 AM
1 Comments:
I feel you on that. Imagine having to do it everyday for years.
Yeah, scary. I'm afraid that I'll wake up and be 50 and will still be doing this. *Sigh*
That is just too depressing to think about.
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