I am but nothing short of sickeningly
disgusted by the number of times my telephone rings
first thing in the morning. I'm even more disgruntled by the fact that no one else in the world seems to
pick up the phone that early, but if I don't, it just rings, and rings, and there is no sleep aside from
brief, restless nodding off throughout the day. Not after
that.
I imagine the scene: the phone rings, it's seven thirty in the morning and I've wandered off to sleep a mere
two hours earlier. I leap from my bed, make it down the stairs at lightning speeds and tear the phone from the wall, just rip it right from its
secure little place. Then, I proceed to throw it on the ground and kick the hell out of it until all that's left is
a pile of little circuits, a few plastic shards and the most annoying answering service voice ever
mumbling (or so it would seem) over and over, "You have no.. new.. messages.. hit.. one..to..continue". "YOU'LL NEVER CONTINUE AGAIN YOU
PIECE OF S#$%,
NEVER AGAIN!"
Of course, this can't really happen, only because my phone sits on
a little table that is a mere two feet from the ground, if that. This would seem less than satisfying if I couldn't rip it from somewhere, I need
mass and
violent destruction not little falls to the ground and a couple weak foot jabs. I think that the ripping it from the wall would
get me going enough to bring on the kicking and screaming part.
I wasn't ready to leave
dreamland just yet, I am still tired, but there is no way for me to drift back to sleep because I'm awake now,
awake but not rested. CURSE YOU telephone, oh
most vile of communicatory devices, curse you. May the technology wagon you rode in on
burst into flames and leave you laying there in a
pulsing heap (yet not really pulsing at all) of bloody
melting plastic'y blood stuff. (YEAH.)
I'm tired, alright?