Okay, I know it’s supposed to be Kitty, but the only way I’d get close enough to a cat to risk the chance of my entire face swelling up from an allergic reaction, is to hire the feline to assassinate every bird outside my window.
I know it’s been a while, but today: I be straight up hatin!
No, I don’t feel like we’re on the same level yet.
Let’s do a fun little exercise to get you in the mood: Take a look around the office and roll your eyes at someone. Maybe the girl with the perfect make-up and gala-ready hair. It’s 8:00am. Who has time for that? Or the girl drinking tea with a gym bag beside her. Why is she so tan? It’s spring and she’s a Canadian from Winnipeg- the only skin colour there is albino. Should I tell her fake tanning equals skin cancer? Nah. Or check out that guy who “bicycled to work” (I don’t know why that’s in quotations, just go with it), does he really need to wear spandex? We get it: your legs are better than mine. Thanks for the daily f-in reminder. Or if you’re at home, just take a look out the window – that guy walking his dog in his sweatpants and oh, yap, no underwear. As baggy as sweatpants are, they leave nothing to the imagination. ‘I can see the outline of your genitals from here!‘ Ugh it’s like a sad tiny elephant.
Did it work? Do you have some hate flowing now? You better.
As we know from countless trashbags on Jerry Springer and the Real Housewives of New Jersey: “You dun know me. Pshh, girl. Haters gonna hate, so gowaun. Go-waun.”
In honor of that gem, I’ma swerve my head left and right and play a little game I like to call: Shut The Blinds If You Want To Live.
It’s my third Spring in Sweden and I am still not used to this goddamn sunlight! The winters are supposed to be “depressing” because it’s dark for nearly 20 hours a day for a few months. But as I wear rosey coloured glasses on occasion, the positive side is: more socially acceptable hours of drinking! Yes the glasses were tinted by red wine; they fell in the decanter and when I drank them out I was like, “meh, still fits”.
But now that liquid positivity dwindles to an all-time low with the sun rearing it’s ugly face nearly 20 hours a day, soon to be a full 24, I’ve started something no Swede has seen before: the spring spiral.
The sun peeks through at 3:45am and the birds start to come out and sing their morning song: coo, coo, KAK, KAK, KAK, KAK, KAK, coo, coo, TEE, TEE, TEE, TEE, CHIK, coo, coo, NAWK, NAWK, NAWK, brr, brr, HARK, CHIK, coo, TEE, KAK, KAK, KAK.
It’s kind of like a car alarm mixed with a siren, a hammer hitting a stone wall, the revving of a chain saw, and an old man’s cackle. Not a regular old man though, one of those obnoxious attention-seeking ones.
So every day for the past couple weeks I wake up and I stare out the window contemplating mass animal murder, and google ingredients for tear gas. But would it then kill my neighbors?
Every revolution requires sacrifice.
Wooowee! High Five friends! I needed I got that out. I feel better now. I shall reward myself with a glass of wine. What? It’s almost noon. And I’m partly French.
Guess what? I leave in 4 days to get married! Yes, someone is marrying me. I am as shocked as you are. But I do have two legs and two boobs, so my chances were always up there.
Have a great weekend peeps! Line those elbows up. Boom. Two times. I’m into it.