waugh.

Waugh. The problem with getting up at a reasonable hour, where ‘reasonable’ is used in a way that I find alien and abhorrent, because it means ‘at 6:15 in the morning’, is that by 11:30 I’m quite sure it should be about 1pm, and I’m damned well ready for the day to be done. The work part of the day, anyway. It’s *beautiful* out. I want to go *play*.

current mood: whiny