Ten Things I’m Sick Of
The list took some culling but these are the items that floated to the top of the detritus of my miserable, self-pitying existence today.
- I am sick of eating soda crackers. Related to this and not deserving of its own place on the list, I am sick of feeling nauseous. I think the soda cracker cure is bogus, dreamt up by cheapskates who didn’t want to give pregnant women with morning sickness chocolate or cavier. Who invented soda crackers and for what true purpose? Mortar.
- I am sick of closed captioning always spelling Aaron Rodgers’ name Erin Rogers, morphing him somehow from the NFL’s MVP to the girl singing the solo at the Christmas pageant.
- Related to football, I am sick of professional athletes with ridiculously long hair. It’s annoying and sometimes you can’t see their names on the back of their jerseys. And then there’s the tossing, which I really can’t stand.
- I am sick of reading and re-reading the surgeon’s aftercare instructions like it’s the Rosetta Stone and I will miss doing or not doing the one thing that will kill me for sure unless I study every word in every line.
- I am sick of sleeping sitting up. Or not sleeping sitting up, as it were.
- I am sick of looking out the window from my bed like I’m the dying girl in the O.Henry story where the husband paints a leaf on the building outside so she doesn’t die. There’s more to it than that but not really.
- I am sick of complaining and I may be sick of this list.
- I am sick of NaBloPoMo and Yeah Write’s No Mo. When you get to the back of the closet where you keep your crummy lists in order to not miss a day, you know you’re on borrowed time. I’m not quitting though and you can’t make me. I want one of those cups.
- I am sick of wearing pajamas and wish I had a proper muumuu.
- I am sick to death of my sick, decrepit, self-absorbed self and hope the Body Snatchers come tonight and take me to the dump just outside of town and tomorrow I can start over as an actual functioning human being.
That’s it. That’s my list of ten things I’m sick of. It’s better than one of those sickening gratitude lists, isn’t it? Seriously. I’m really sick of those.