Bad Mood Rising

Know what I hate?

If you selected

D.) everything

…then bingo, you’re right. Some days, that’s just the way it is. At least it’s raining and growling outside: if I have to clean my bathroom, then no one else gets to go out and ride bikes either.

I hate my bathroom. It’s falling apart. The hot water does whatever it wants, and sometimes the toilet actually erupts. I have to leave the faucet trickling 24/7, because the Royal Cat-holes refuse to drink out of a regular bowl. This morning we discovered that when you secretly throw up your Eukenuba lamb pellets into said sink sometime during the night, they expand.


I hate my whole apartment. I hate that it smells like its sister building next door, which burned a week ago while I was at Gashole. I hate the cockroach that just appeared out of nowhere and got right onto my sandwich for a better look, so that I had to throw the whole thing out. Also, I hate all of its friends, including the one I saw when I opened my closet door this morning, as it scurried into one of my dress shirts. I hate all 86 stairs I have to climb to get into this slum, and I hate what it costs me to live in it. And I hate that I’ve been banging my head against the wall professionally for nearly half a century, and yet this is still the best I can do.

I hate that they ruined So You Think You Can Dance. I hate that I wake up with that One Direction song in my head – just like I used to do when Sheila E recorded it and called it “The Glamorous Life.” I hate that the Republicans and Nicki Minaj are winning. I hate that I now have to use the words “hurricane” and “Isaac” in the same sentence.

I’m just in a rainy, growly mood, I guess. And I know it’ll pass. I’ll be back to bashing my brains out again in no time – writing more unproduced shows! Performing to a couple dozen people at a time! Hell, maybe I’ll even make another CD and sell a few hundred of those! As retirement plans go, it ain’t much, but that’s what I get for living the dream. Which I hate. (Today.)

Oh, wait. The sun just came out. Screw the bathroom; I’m going for a bike ride.

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5 Responses to Bad Mood Rising

  1. V. Hansmann says:

    It gets worse.

  2. Rob Byrnes says:

    I’m keeping my head down. Maybe even try to stay a state or two away…

  3. Bill B. says:

    OK. So here’s the deal.
    In (X number of) years, you and I, and two other people on whom we mutually agree, shall move into a nice (one story) house in Florida (but not Miami or Tampa or the panhandle). I shall be the Sophia. You strike me as (a somewhat less statuesque) Dorothy. We shall also have a Rose and a Blanche. We shall discuss the ways of the world. You will make beautiful music. Rose & Blanche will be assigned useful purposes, and I will make spaghetti sauce… and we will hire someone to clean the damn bathrooms.

    I have now written it down so it will be so.

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