Sunshine and skittles

Once again, I bring you sunshine and fucking skittles early in the morning.

I'm still bitter about the bicycle.  I fantasize revenge on an hourly basis.  I'm not good at letting things go.  It's probably something I should work on.  I should be more forgiving.

Nah.  Fuck that shit.

Regardless, I'm feeling a great sense of loss and anger here.  I wasn't half this upset when my fucking car got stolen ten years ago, also from the French Quarter.  I had no physical or emotional attachment to the car, it was just a car.  It was more of an inconvenience than anything else.  I was more pissed off at the dumb bitch who was with me that night, who was whining and complaining about the fact that "my baaaag was in theeeere!  With all my make-uuuuuup!!"  She had left her fucking bag in my trunk, against my recommendation (because she was a dumb bitch) and was seriously distraught that her make-up and the fucking PEN she bought for her husband were gone.  Meanwhile my CAR was gone.  It was unfuckingbelievable.  I wanted to smash her teeth in.

Anyway, taking my motherfucking bicycle is much more personal and even though I'm not even there and it's not really a direct inconvenience, at least not right now, I'm hugely angry and I'm feeling ready to smash some teeth in again.  FUUUCK.

Well.  That's all I really have to say about that right now.  On a happier note, I have to go now because I have to get dressed and look pretty to meet the boyfriend at the airport so he can come and put together this shelf I bought for the bathroom and help me hang these pictures which will hopefully improve my mood enough to enjoy the four days off in a row that I have.  Let's keep our fingers crossed here, people.