co-worker: “why do you hate father’s day? why do you hate holidays? why do you hate birthdays? what do you like? what is it that you like to do?”
me: “i hate father’s day, because there is no son’s and daughter’s day. these semi-holidays are slightly skewed. honor thy father and mother, yes, but where does it say i have to make a special occasion one sunday out of every year for each parent. i’m supposed to buy a card like these other suckers? i don’t think so. i’ll use some cellphone minutes and have a little chit chat instead.”
me: “i hate birthdays, because i don’t want to know how old i am. i don’t care. all i need to know is that i’m alive and i still have most of my hair. i’d rather celebrate the fact that after years of struggling, i’ve finally been able to gain five pounds. but weight gain day is not a holiday.”
lack of sleep and two cans of arizona green tea can make me a little loopy.
a little loopy?
Those are some freaky eyes this time.