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Drag, drag, drag your ass
Drag your ass to work;
Everybody on the D train
Is a stupid jerk.

Woe is me; it is Monday and I am filled with ennui.

(And cannot stop rhyming, apparently.)

(...Crap!)

This morning was a comedy of oversleeping, lost hairbrushes, malfunctioning Diet Coke can boxes (all those words are there on purpose, I swear), and fashion mayhem. And that was all before I got to the stupid train, which I did not give enough weight to in my attempts to mentally prepare for my new commute. "Three stops!" I thought, back in my innocent days. "Why it's nothing!" Nothing, until you count the unpredictable, anywhere from five to forty (FORTY!!) minutes' wait time, the only opening the front doors on a whim, so you never know where you have to be to embark and disembark, the stupid stupid in your way people who do not respond to "excuse me," whether uttered with dulcet sweetness or the piercingest snark you can muster.

Blah bloo blee. It's Monday and let's be honest, I'm not going to go anywhere with that. Instead, here is another song for you. This is one of Murray's many theme songs:

The wonderful thing about MURRAYS
Is Murrays are terrible THINGS
Their bellies are made out of RUBBER
Their claws are mounted on SPRINGS

But, by far the most wonderful thing about Murrays...
Is there...is only ONE!
THERE...is only ONE!

This is a good song to sing when Murray does that thing where he rolls around all cute-like, and gets you to rub his belly, and then kills you. The shouting helps with the pain.

Murray dealt pretty well with the move, except for some tragedy involving the hated cat carrier and the loud, obviously Satanic and deadly, truck. But he's not too keen on letting us out of his sight these days; when I'm home, he follows me from room to room, resentfully, as if thinking "If you are going to be so fickle and untrustworthy that I must keep tabs on you, could you at LEAST light someplace so I can get some rest!" When I go to the bathroom, he is really displeased, and sits outside the door scratching and meowing. I'm pretty sure he thinks that the front door leads to another room, where Josh and I go and hang out without him, just to be mean. Oh the accusations when I get back from work!

Posted by hilatron at September 19, 2005 10:09 AM | TrackBack