passion...schmassion

Day 9979: Dear Snooze...

My dearest Snooze,

It's been a while, my friend, hasn't it. I can't remember when I talked to you last. I can't even remember when I talked to you first. Actually, I don't think I've ever really, really talked to you. Never had a heart-to-heart like we're doing now. Though come to think of it, I have talked to you before. I think my first word to you was a cuss word. I'm sorry. I don't mean to take things out on you. I should appreciate you and stop taking you for granted. But what do you expect? You don't treat me nice either. You're loud and obnoxious... I can't lie about that. It's brutal, I know, but I have "issues" with dishonesty. Are you mad at me? It sure seems like it... you and your attitude.

You've been there for me whenever I needed you. You've been there for me even when I didn't need you. You've destroyed my fondest dreams, but you've also battled my nightmares. So what can I say except thank you. And that I hate you. I don't think I hate anything in the world as much as I hate you. I hate you every day. I dread seeing you every morning.

I don't ask for much. Just a little time to myself. Five more minutes. I'm not fussy. I just need some time... time without you interrupting my thoughts every few minutes. Your piercing voice echoing through the room, startling me when I don't expect to hear you. I guess really, it's my fault. I don't really know you. Don't really know what makes you tick. That's why you're upset, isn't it. You can tell me. I can handle it. You don't think I understand, do you?

You've gone places with me that I haven't taken any other. You've become a part of me... you've become special to me. You've gone through thick and thin with me. You've lived with me for how many years now??? Four?? Wow. That's a lifetime for some people.

But today, my friend, you let me down. I asked for five minutes. You gave me eight. Three minutes too many. Three minutes is a long time. Enough time to ruin my day. Enough time to possibly ruin my life. Hmmm... let's recap...

Three minutes... I was late by three minutes leaving the house. Three minutes less to settle down, catch my breathe, and regain composure. Three minutes of pure sweaty torturous hell. And the results? One botched interview, one semi-ok interview (but probably hurt the results of first said interview), coffee spilt all over interview jacket, one unreturned phone call, one bad email, one tuna pasta salad that I swear was from last week, a burnt tongue, a broken diet... I could go on and on, but it's only just lunch time. The rest of the day hasn't even happened yet and already I feel like going home to die.

It's all your fault, Snooze. I blame you, but really just because it's not fair to blame myself. It wasn't my fault. Not really. I didn't know what I was doing... I was groggy and probably still dreaming sweet, sweet dreams. I thought you liked it when I "pressed your button." You woke me up too soon, and left me disoriented. I swear I didn't know what I was doing. I only wanted five more minutes... you gave me eight.

I hate you, dear Snooze. I hate you... really... but you're all that I've got right now. But maybe I'm going to ask for a Timex for Christmas... and then, dear Snooze... I will have my revenge...


ps... Today is actually day 9979. Somewhere along the line, I miscounted. Way to go, freak. *flush*