||[Oct. 27th, 2009|10:35 pm]
Drat! The Official hellhole was already too crowded when I got there this morning, a mere ten minutes past the opening time of eight ungodly o'clock, so I returned home and thus there are no Official papers for me yet. I continue to Officially not exist! Tomorrow I'll try to get to the hellhole at least twenty minutes before it gapes open. Maybe I'll be able to get out of there within two hours— if I ever get out at all. |
A slight bonus to the delay is that this morning my hair was looking unusually bad from my having napped for an hour with a hoodie over my head. The hair looked not just as though it had been teased, but as though it had been out-and-out bullied. I wouldn't have wanted my pitcher took looking like that. Besides, I've heard that if the Officials see that you've been bullying your hair, they'll take it away from you, and they do this by behaving in ways that drive you to pull it out by the roots. But then they might behave that way anyway.
So now I'm short of sleep for yet another day, and tomorrow will be the same. By then I'll be verging on b*tshit crazy. Again, drat!
Though I missed much of the afternoon, what I got to see of it was nice, a cold north wind having arrived to send cascades of leaves and semi-lethal acorns falling earthward. I enjoyed the windy, leafy, acorny racket, but the birds all seemed to have been stunned into silence. Well, there was one exception to the avian quiet, that being the domesticated bird next door who screeched now and then but spoke no intelligible words. Had it spoken I suspect it would have said b*tshit crazy! I'm quite certain it was spying on me.