Rambling

I can't concentrate today. It's going to be one of those days that's the same length as any other, yet seems longer due to niggling irritations.

I got my hair cut yesterday.

Or rather, my loving wife, bless her for trying, attempted to make me look presentable, despite my writhing in protest. It didn't turn out so well, there was a lot of fidgeting, oodles of complaining, a great deal of crankiness, and an eventual concession to use clippers. She was a trooper about it, but in part I suspect that's because she finds my little mini-meltdowns hysterical (at one point, she was laughing so hard, she was in the fetal position with scissors in her hand).

I hate haircuts. They're itchy. It's almost as bad as having things touch me when I don't want to be touched. All those little, near infinitesimal snippets of hair poking me for days on end. It doesn't matter how earnestly you bathe, they don't go away until they're bored with torturing you. This is going to be an all day thing.

And now this chunky chick is sitting so close to me that my coffee arm is pinned against my side. Every time I take a drink, she glares at me like a lazy, fat cat when you don't feed it.

Oh, good, she got nosy about what I was doing, then left. Ta-ta, miss thang.

To be honest, I'm just keeping this going right now to distract myself from the little carcasses that were once my hair assaulting the back of my neck in protest. Don't expect it to make too much sense. I don't. I fully intend to ramble on until someone decides to control those screaming kids behind me, or toss them out.

Today is going to be one of those days where I "mouth off" (as my adoring wife likes to call it) a lot.

I'm still wondering why we don't have our own show.