After a largely sleepless night – interrupted only by a series of nightmares involving people breaking into my house, my friends being killed by ax-wielding maniacs and/or discussing insurance with my dentist (seriously, I had different dreams on all three of those subjects last night, each more horrifying than the last) – I turned on the TV to discover more rain in the forecast. Which means no bike ride to work. Which means taking MUNI… Which was filled with the usual motley crew of freaks and malcontents (i.e. me). Like the gal sitting next to me who kept grazing her meaty upper arm against mine, despite my valiant efforts to shrink into myself as much as possible with the hope of avoiding any further contact. Ugh.
Which reminds me – do only ugly people ride MUNI? Or does riding MUNI make you ugly? I suppose it’s like the chicken and the egg… We’ll never know.
Speaking of chickens-and-eggs, one of Gawker’s top 10 comments for the year came from a post discussing gun violence:
Oh god, there is nothing worse than a gun violence debate. It’s like watching chickens argue with eggs in the middle of a KFC.
At any rate, I arrived at work, tired and grouchy (yes, more so than is usual) and went to make my usual breakfast of peanut-butter-and-bacon on toast – only to find that my peanut butter was offensively solid. Damn you to hell, Laura Scudder…
But I do plan to try getting back onto my daily posting schedule for the blog. If nothing else, that’ll provide me with an outlet for my rage and despair hopes and dreams. Happy new year!