Persona Non-Grata

Ever have those weeks?

You roll your ankle walking to the bus. You break your favorite coffee mug. The vibe in your house is wonky and everyone feels on edge. You try a real-honest-to-goodness recipe for bread and it tastes like packing peanuts and weighs as much as a phone book? Damn dogs upstairs won't stop barking? Damn novel won't stop sucking and you're blowing a big-girl deadline? Your hair is flat, your pants are wrinkled, your kid hates the lunch you packed, and the overpriced coffee you bought is burned.
Yeah. It's one of those.

I tried to keep to myself last week like I promised, but the bottom line is that I'm a talker. Ohmigosh, I loves me some words. I'm not sure that I exactly failed my attempt to be a better listener, but let's just say that by Monday, my goal was to not talk negatively instead of not as much.

Whatever. I learned that I can be a real pain in the ass sometimes...and that was a lot of fun, let me tell you.

By the time it came around to figuring out what to do this week to push boundaries, I was sick of those thought-provoking, character-building, annoying lofty ideas that would make me a better person and I wanted something simple. That I could acutally do.

Like crochet.

Ha! Simple like a quadratic equation. (And at least they invented graphing calculators for those.)

I've started and re-started about 50 times. I've watched low-grade videos of old ladies on YouTube as they school me on treble this and double that. After five days of yarn burns and hook injuries, I can say that I make one mean chain stitch.

And that's about it...I've got this really long chain stitch to nowhere going on that I think, after a week like this, can be made into a noose...or at least a rope to hog tie the next asshat who won't move his damn backpack so I can sit down in the mornings.

Just sayin'. You've been warned, asshat.

Oh, and I called a bus driver a dick. True story. Then I wrote a letter to his boss, calling him such. Old school and new school--all in one convenient, pissed off package.

I gave up trying to think of things to do, so I made a long list and stuck them in a jar that once moonlighted as a peaches container. I let it decide what I do from now on. There's a couple in there I'm not so thrilled about trying ("surrender your debit card for a week" pshaw!!) and a couple I can't wait for ("schedule a pedicure ASAP"...ok, that's not really in there, but you know what I'm getting at.)

Oh, and if anyone out there has a recipe for bread that doesn't taste like memory foam, do share. Please, even.