Who gave the cranky bitch a keyboard

The full time job, the 2-year old who screams for peanut butter and then sobs and cries "Noooo!" when I give it to her, and the 15-credit semester that I try to juggle after she goes to sleep is all making my head implode.

I was locked out of an online quiz the other night when the baby woke up with a fever, and the professor is not letting me retake it. I feel like running down to the college and kicking her car until I break my own toe, and then throwing all my textbooks into a puddle to give my tantrum a climactic ending.

I'll show them! I'll stay stupid.

Yeah.

I am feeling ever so slightly dark and cranky.

I wish I could smoke at my desk. That is, if I could take a drag of a cigarette without hacking up my esophagus. (I can't.) I just like the image of me crouched in my cubicle like a gargoyle, offering a croaked "GO TO HELL!" to passers-by, like Dennis Leary back in the early days of MTV.

An Excerpt of "The Downtrodden Song", by Dennis Leary

Everything is horrible
Really really really terrible
I'm really depressed
I'm really downtrodden
The whole world is doomed
We're all gonna die
25,672 people die every single minute
Seventeen hundred and fifty people just died

Yes, I WOULD like some cheese with my whine.

Mmmm....cheese!