Pete Kelly's Blues

Last night was a foggy haze of a birthday, REALLY good wine, a long overdue (and way too short) visit with Amy, a jazz record narrated by Jack Webb, and a vague headache. I had crazy dreams involving the carnival from that old Disney movie Something Wicked This Way Comes. I forgot to switch the CD in my alarm clock, so I woke up to Astrud Gilberto, which put me in the oddest mood today. Not a bad mood at all - just kind of...sideways.

The only residual strangeness from the wine was that I had a slightly short temper at work. I had to physically clamp my mouth shut so that my first words spoken aloud today weren't, "Shut your noise hole, you arrogant, ridiculous douchebag." The aforementioned douchebag said something smart-ass to my boss, who I really like, and he gets on my last nerve on a regular basis. This bizarre joke of a person actually inspires me to invent new obscene epithets meaning, "Tiny little man who is full of himself and whose favorite hobby is belittling and insulting others around him to build up his already overblown ego and to compensate for his safety-pin-sized penis." I suppose it's possible to go through life thinking that most people you encounter are pretty good folks who don't want to cause harm to you or others. But then you join the American workforce, and quickly realize how little you knew about people. People are freaks.

It's Friday, though, so I can't stay testy all day. On Friday, everything almost seems ok because I've got 2 1/2 full days to myself. Then Monday comes, and I realize how much I am desperately, achingly craving a real vacation. I think I can hang on until October. What I'm not sure of is whether or not I can hang on until 5pm this afternoon...