I hate today.
Day 2 of my mega giveaway and I’m a little depressed. Not about the giveaway, which is going quite well, but because it’s my birthday.
With the less than appealing promise of a new pair of underpants as a reward for this milestone into antiquity, I just want to go back to bed. I’m depressed. I feel about a million years old. In fact I think I am a million years old.
And responding to my abject misery, my daughter, never one to resist the opportunity to remind me of my Methuselah-like features, has taken to helping me lift things, or opening the doors for me.
I bet she’ll even stoop to the extreme level of vindictiveness of making her own bed before the end of the day in an implied threat that shouting might just finish me off. She hasn’t even resorted to the old standby of accusing me of wishing her fiery, awful death even once.
I don’t care. I’ll survive until the end of the day if it kills me.
One more day to grab Kongomato for free. Number three is going nicely, or horribly, depending on one’s point of view.