We wake up, bright eyed, bushy tailed, ready to sit down for another productive day at work from home, and wouldn’t you know it? Sir Fluffyass McFurrytail decides to hop up on your lap and give you some love. But little do you and your workflow know about the tiny, invisible, multi pronged attack your furry four legged friend/arch nemesis has delivered unto you!
Because, like a gift from the god of irritating the fuck out of you from beyond this mortal veil, come hundreds of tiny, targeted, indiscriminate hairs, that, like any tweet from Trump, means ten fucking minutes of rubbing your god damned eyes wondering why it hurts so fucking much! Then you take care of the problem, and you feel safe, snug, why, you might even begin to work again! Hot Dog! Oh, what’s that little Timmy!? Why, it’s a random eyelash! Run little Timmy run! And like a huge clown ship of nightmares, those little fuckers get under your eye lids and decide to play “Hide and Go fuck your work day!”because you’ll be once again rubbing your damned eye and wondering just what it was in your past life you did to deserve such a hellish fate! What ancient, eldritch god did you inadvertently piss off to the point where they would command, NAY, not command, for that would belay any scent of peace and harmony! NO! DEMAND A VIRGIN SACRIFICE of the random ass eyelash that decides to fuck with you even further! And to top it off, you best fwiend in the whole woild decides to pay you another visit! Right as one irritating distraction leaves you, another hops on your lap, purrs loudly, prances around on your keyboard like a demon possessed totem about to fuck your shit up, and suddenly, before you know it, Amazon is delivering twelve pounds of Lucky Charms marshmallows, two sex dolls, a couch made of potatoes, and several calls from the FBI wondering, “WHY, just dear god why, did you order the episode of Twilight Zone where Yanni stars as a flutist taunting an empty chair with insults that seem oddly racist against the very oxygen he breathes seven hundred times!?” Then your day is FUCKED, because it’s a never ending cycle of personal torment so horrific and demented that you wonder why none of the SAW traps were just this irritating cycle of Cats, cat hair, the musical cast from cats acting out this vicious attack on your sanity from the universe itself, and your own body hair deciding NOW IS AS GREAT TIME AS ANY TO PRACTICE AT BEING INEFFECTIVE PARATROOPERS WITH THE LANDING ZONE BEING THE CENTER OF YOUR PUPIL WITH SUCH GREAT MILITARY LIKE PRECISION you begin to wonder why anything gets done at all. Then, like Bane threatening a grumpy Batman, Only when your original plans are broken and burning piles of ash, do you have your cat and eyelashes permission to work… Only for the unrelenting hell to start up again, so you give up and decide to watch Netflix, and that’s when the true douchefuckery begins.
Now you have to decide what to watch? Bitchy Bridesmaids Season 734? Because the previous 733 couldn’t possibly get any better! Assholes in Kitchens Season 7? Because nothing screams originality like someone screaming at someone else because the ovens set to 399 instead of 400 in a british accent. Idiots being Idiots to other Idiots Season 2? Every fucking reality show ever. Or that new movie about blindfolded people screaming at nothing while doing everyday tasks? Could be fun or depressing, depending on the task. Decisions decisions…. Fuck netflix, just go for a walk. Sidenote: I was originally going to talk about how weird the weathers been.