Bricks

It is 3:45 pm and it is the weekend of the air show. I am not amused. I want the planes to stop. I wanted to be able to take a nap before work. But nooooo, the Blue Angels are buzzing my building every ten minutes, wasting thousands upon thousands of dollars in fuel and terrifying my cats. Grrrrrrrr. Why do we have air shows? What purpose do they serve? Other than to annoy the hell out of me. I have this morbid fantasy of one of 'em nose diving into the lake. The pilot safely ejecting of course. Because let's face it, the real reason people go to those things is the chance that they might wittness just such an occurance.

Work is fun, it's a bar, it SHOULD be fun. The nails aren't much of a hinderance. And I'm due there in about an hour. My co-worker/boss/best friend is picking me up today. Which is soooo nice as it is raining. And the bus will be packed due to the air show. I wish it would rain harder.

Damn it!!! The f&^%#ing jets are flying by at about the same height as my F-ahem- windows and are so -ahem- loud, they soud as if they are about to fly right into my apartment. It's nerve racking. If I could bite my nails right now I'd probably have bloody stumps. I'll be glad to get to work, and away from the lake-front.

ON A COMPLETELY NEW TOPIC

Years ago I shared an apartment with two other people. I was 19. The three of us were sitting around, eating pizza or something. I made the comment that you practically have to hit a guy over the head with a brick before he realizes you like him. The next morning there was a brick leaning up against my bedroom door. A, the one male in the house proved that apparently it's not just a guy thing. We did not date, I was two weeks away from moving off to college. I wish I still had that brick though, there's someone I'd like to give it to.

--Little Bird is nervous