This Sock's Been Through Hell

Yes, all of my posts from now on are going to be about my socks (sarcasm). Today's been craptastic. I rolled out of bed with a shitty hangover - last night was beer bingo and dollar tacos. I don't know where most of my clothes are, so I tried to put on just whatever. The lacy camisole I tried to wear under my a-little-too-sheer-for-work shirt was waaaaay to small (did I mention I got fat?) and then I put on my white bra instead and threw a sweater over the whole affair. Well, once I got to work, I noticed that:

a.) the bra straps are glaringly apparent
b.) the bright pink Sharpy shows through where Sean of Tickle Me Pink signed my bra
c.) there was a hole in my right sock

and instead of having a versatile ensemble that I could change with the absurd climate, I have an ugly, uncomfortable getup that I'm trapped in because I can't take off the sweater for fear of showing the terribly inappropriate disaster underneath.

Plus, my pen ran out of ink, I have killer heartburn, my head STILL hurts, the damn register at the corner shop wouldn't accept my credit card and the checker was a dick about it. I wanna go home!!!

Hellsox

These are my socks today. Why? Because I fucking [heart] Argyle. With those and my little knit skirt there, I should stay nice and warm. Why? Because it's still fucking freezing here. Well, it was this morning anyway and it's supposed to be 68 later on. Crazy-assed weather.

I've only been awake a handful of hours today and already I'm so annoyed I could puke. If you see me walking around with an, "I'm so annoyed I could puke" look on my face, you'll know why. You know, that expression that looks like I was rolling my eyes and they got stuck in the "up" position. This morning, it was finally cozy in my new bed/new apartment situation and of course I had to get up and come to work. Then, I get on the train and the only two people talking had to be talking really loud and just had to be having the most inane conversation ever. The college-aged guy with the spiky hair, the geek glasses and the obnoxious instrument case, but who is terribly uncute despite those three features, was talking about how he went to see Gwar and the lead singer cut off the head of a T-Rex. Then, he went on to talk about how when you're in a Greek place, you order lamb or some such boring, stupid dribble. The girl that was talking to him had one of those quite obviously fake laughs. One of those laughs that screams, "I am pretending that you're funny so I can get laid." And it went on like that for 30 minutes. THIRTY FUCKING MINUTES!!!!1!!!!

I wanted to grab them each by the back of the head and smash their faces together until they suffocate from trying to breathe through the bloody pulp that was once their mouth and nose. I wanted to scream at them to shut the fuck up. I wanted to tell them to just get a room and get it over with. Stupid damn kids.

After I exited the train, I was heading for the drug store and caught an exchange of words behind me. One lady seemed to think that the person on the other end of her cell phone was completely deaf. A lady near her said, "Just shout it out to the world, why don't you?" Cell phone lady had some kind of retort and the response was, "shut up". Naturally, I was all for the "shut up" woman. I wish people would open their mouths against rudeness more. I wish I'd actually said something to the irritating fuck-tards on the train. So many people get away with being discourteous and rude just because the rest of us don't pipe up about it. But, confrontation makes me nervous. Even hearing that brief snippet made me kinda jumpy, which totally contradicts the rage I feel inside on a daily basis.

Maybe I need to take a martial arts class or something; learn how to deal with confrontation. Oi. Maybe after I unpack my things and settle in.