My inner monologue ~ Warning : I don't care and neither does my inner voice.
Don't act like you don't have one. In fact its tell you to keep moving through the blog entries; this one is going to inter ranting of a military wife with nothing much to do but rant anonymously online. You might want to listen to your inside voice.
Fear - Everything, really. I think in a past life I was a lemming. Maybe they have an inner monologue that sings ' I believe I fly...I believe I can touch the sky'.
Loathing - The freaking playground behind my building. I get it Mom and Dad its summer vacation and Little Johnny and Little Susie need to go outside and play. Uh-huh. Rather than have the little angels scream and yell at each other, and drive you to jump off a cliff - you send them outside to subject the rest of the community to the screeching little banshees. Oh. YAY.
My inner voice for today ~ Go ahead and stare at me one more time. I'm going to sit here and smoke a cigarette * gasp* did she say cigarette! YES. I have few vices and smoking is the difference between surviving a deployment and scrubbing bathroom tile until my fingertips bleed. - I'm sure there are few military wives out there that will relate - I digress. ( Get used to it, it happens a lot)
So, as I was thinking, I am going to smoke on my balcony - the every same balcony that overlooks the playground. I'm going to sit here and smoke, and read another few pages of a book - you know, a book. the series of bound paper with words on it?-
So my book. My smoke. My comfy chair. And my water bottle. And you. Shit.
Your attempt to glare me back into my house because I'm smoking is a little freaky, but mostly laughable. In order for me - the homeowner- to go back into the house because you - annoying fat lady- doesn't like little Johnny being around smoke - I use Little very loosly - an act of Congress will be needed. So until that time. Bite. Me. - Which is not unlikely she looks hungry.
This is my life.
Welcome. Leave your sanity at the door.
