April is not the cruellest month. February is. We're only ankle-deep into February, and I'm about ready to throttle the life out of it but I don't have the energy to do it.
I am bloated, tired, and fighting the second cold I've had in a month. I am pasty gray and I am wearing nothing but black and gray clothing, and my undereye circles are so round, so gray, so puffy that they could be mistaken for small mice that are hanging onto my face by their tiny teeth. The operative word here is Gray. It is foggy out today, and later it will rain, and my hair will frizz, and the world around me will explode in a snotty mass of Grayness.
And we have at least another month or two of this shitfest.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
gray,grey, grey goose, martini.
problem solved.
come here, i'll do your hair. and you'll be happy.
and even hotter, as if that's possible.
Aw, shucks. Thanks dahling. Although I must warn you, I have brain-damaged hair.
i like where she's going with that whole MARTINI THING!
Post a Comment