First day of March, eh? Barely saw the retreating backside of February, it seems like. Ah well, I’m not complaining. Spring is round the corner, horrah!
. . . And considering spring is now tentatively nipping at our bums (it can hardly nip our noses, that’s Jack Frost’s job), I thought I would draw something springy (meaning, of-or-related to the season, not something bouncy, mind). Ursula’s got a bunch of new plantstuffs ready to be installed in her garden. Only, right now she’s taking a break to . . . er, pose. Mmmyep.
Guh, it’s so sad, but I am BORING MYSELF TO BITS. I can not think of anything to blog about . . . And this tells me that my life is becoming progressively, gradually, clinically DULL. I am the boringest boring that ever boringed.
. . . Let’s see. I woke up and swore when I saw the clock and realised I’d slept through my alarm and twenty minutes longer than ought. I got ready for work, piled into my car, pulled out of the alley and swore when the school bus passed and was going to be ahead of me. I got to work and swore when I looked at my phone and realised I was two minutes late because of the bastarding bus. I swore when I phone pooked out for my neglecting to charge it the night before. I swore when I pulled a cat’s bedding out to clean her cage, only to discover the hard way that her ability to aim for the litterbox had apparently suffered in the face of explosive diarrhoeia. I went to mop up and swore when I found that whoever had been at admin last had neglected to restock with a clean mophead and I had to walk all the way back to the main building to fetch one. I clocked out and swore because I was supposed to run to the grocery store, but I really had to pee, so I went straight home. Then, I ate supper. It was feckin’ delicious.
And that, ladies and gents, is my marvelously interesting life. Yes, I know, I am weeping wretchedly as well.