You move in on my territory at work & freak us all out, forcing me to work from home today in which I had to call my IT guy this morning on the designated number (aka his cell, which he sounded like he was at a party. Not happy when he had to talk work stuff. Therefore not helpful worth $hit. That is why the second time I called the other number and that dude sounded like he was still in bed. What the hell?? YOU circulated those numbers, not moi.) I can deal.
You take away my patios. I can deal.
You slow down my street cars. I can deal.
You block my cell phone bidnass. I can deal. (And I am popular)
You populate my 'hood with more crazies than usual. I can deal.
You take over my Captivate Network screen in the elevators which I usually like to read for weather updates and news snippets so I can have topics of convo to toss out there while I am waiting for the a-holes at work to finish heating up their stinky lunch in the microwave and move the hell out of my way so that I can get a fork. I can deal. (And potentially starve to death thank you very much.)
You threaten my "personal safety". I can deal.
You cancel local sporting events that I had plans to go to. I can deal.
You clean up my streets so that I'm not walking through a sea of refuse and trash in my open-toed sandals. I can deal.
You clean up the empties and ciggy butts faster than they can be produced by myself and fellow SOS'ers. I can deal.
But where $hit gets real and gets real fast, is when I go to hit up my local LCBO (aka church) and it is boarded up for the weekend thanks to you. I almost suffered a concussion due to falling to the ground in shock and disbelief and my makeup smeared from tears. A gal could dehydrate in this city faster than Cassie burns through a baker's doz pack o' Magnums.
FURTHERMORE, the knife slices through that final black and shrivelled artery of this "heart" of mine is when you close my local 24 hour grocery store. Oh no.
No.
No.
No.
Why don't you just show up to my house Christmas morning after I have invited all my family and friends for the most magical Christmas ever, then $hit on my Martha Stewart turkey n' trimmin's fit for 50 of the most distinguished guests, then burn that mutha down. Did I mention we're out in the middle of nowhere having a Norman Rockwell holiday so there's nothing around for miles and miles?
That explains how I feel right now. This "heart" is broken and heavy. You've done it and I hope you're HAPPY!!!!!!!
G20 can EAT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOT happy, NOT friendly, but still FABULOUS (and you're f'in lucky)
PAM
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