Tonight was fidget central, causing me to think on what I'd like to do:
I'd like go to these people's place of business and natter on in their ear while they try and get shit done.
I'd like to send juddering waves through their seat with a jackhammering knee while they try and roll their joint.
I'd like to thunder on pots and pans while they try to put baby to sleep.
I'd like to suck my teeth and mutter under my breath while they do their day-to-day.
I'd like to ride the bus, sitting far too close to them after a ten day bender in the wilderness with no soap.
I'd like them to repeat themselves for me, not becuase I can't hear, but because I'm special, and they should know that!
I'd like to smack some sense into them. Not gently, but like only an angry mom can smack. You know what I'm talking about: that smack that tells you exactly how fucking stupid you are.
I can't do any of what I'd like to do, so I vent here...
Oh, and I turned in my first bit of paid writing. I am told the check is in the mail. I've already been asked to do another project, and am waiting on the contract.
Wooot!
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