"I'm just screwing with you."
Oh. Well, stop it.
There is nothing to do at midnight except to sit and be annoyed,
and that is, itself, annoying as hell. What a vicious cycle
late-night annoyance is.
Maybe I should refuse to take telephone calls at hours when there
is nothing better to do. That doesn't sound quite right....
Now I'm just depressed..., and I'm probably going to feel like a
schmuck, tomorrow.
Also..., I still have made no progress. I am lagging, and that
makes me feel stupid.
That idea about not-doing things as a method of avoiding
downfall... almost looks good.
Maybe I should start making annoyance-art, but I don't know how to
do that.
Denny's! I can go to Denny's!
I wonder what Denny's has in the way of tea.... I should probably
bring my own tea to Denny's, but, of course, I'm all out of bagged
tea..., except for that horrible vanilla stuff.
attempt #{1:}# annoyance-poetry
It isn't that I hate you, dear--
it's just that stupid thing you do,
when calling late at night
and telling things that can't be true,
refusing simple truisms--
it sets me off with anxious nerves,
but,
dear,
I swear,
it isn't you.
[7d3.1.1a--1: meta-source]
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