This morning arrived like a bitch slap to the face. A house is being built next door and unlike the one lazy ass person I know in construction (I am talking about a certain ex boyfriend here) the ones next door apparently like to get an early start with their constructioning... I know that's not a word but I have no idea what they were doing and what the tools are called - I just know it was loud and barely 6 AM when it started.
Given the new found balls I've discovered, I marched outside in my tanktop (sans bra - and it's not hot, I don't really have boobs anymore) and disheveled ponytail - all my hair skewed far left, sleep still in my eyes. I think I scared the shit out of the first guy (who I believe was using a table saw) with my arrival, which I can only imagine he believed was the onset of a zombie apocalypse.
"What the fuck are you doing, dude?" I said and squarely stepped barefoot into a mud puddle with such force that it splashed all the way up to my neck. He laughed. Out loud.
And so my shitty Tuesday began far too early and mud covered. Fuck bees.
(Inside Joke Alert: Here is the explanation for why I say 'fuck bees'. There is no explanation for why I say it so much except that my life often presents a plethora of reasons.)