How the ever loving
fuck is it December already? This year has just flown by. Also my spellcheck is
informing that ever loving is one word so allow me correct that.
How in the
ever-loving fuckballs is it already December?
Fuckballs is
apparently not a word but who cares?
It’s a sign of an
uninteresting person to complain about the passage of time. And yet, here I
stand, the exception that proves the rule. You will find me constantly bitching
about the passage of time because it does suck. It all sucks. Another year
trapped in a pandemic, facing one’s mortality – now more than ever – even work
hours seeming longer as each day is inconsistent in its busyness. Thank
goodness for that fairly strict rule about business hours or I would never see
my family. As it is, James has been working nights all this week and last week
(covering for a friend, I guess) so I haven’t seen him in a few days except
when he crawls into bed in the morning.
We were going to
do something for his birthday on Thursday but he’s working. It wasn’t going to
be anything big, just a dinner with the two of us while Cassie goes out “hunting”
– I will never not find it funny that she calls it “hunting”. It’s not about
what we do, it’s that we’re intentionally taking time to be with each other. That’s
the important part.
Or it was. Now he
has to work. Although there’s nothing stopping me from visiting him at the
prison. It’d be so easy to make a joke about conjugal visits but that’s exactly
what we’re going to do if I can sneak in and surprise him while he’s on duty.
I am a simple
woman: I am here to have sex with my husband and complain about the passage of
time. And if I happen to commit a few dozen murders while I’m here, then let a
few people lose their heads.
Maybe I’ll even
kill an inmate while I’m there. Although it’s not nearly as fun. Prison is a
corrupt nightmare and I would much rather kill random strangers off the street.
I can imagine they’re douchebags even if they aren’t – though let’s be real:
most people suck.
Just like the
passage of time.
See how I brought
that back around?
Like a clock?
Look: I’m a
murderer not a comedian. Give me a break.
As always, dear
readers,
Stay Safe
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