I may have mentioned around here that I hate 5:45. Well, the good news is that as of this morning, I only have eight days of it left. That's right, the end of school is nigh. And with it, the end of getting up before the sun and all the weirdness therein entailed. You see, I don't think that well early in the morning. Here's a little sampling of what's going on in my mind on the way to school:
- If I could draw, I'd make a web comic series about song lyrics that just don't work for me. The first one would have a guy at a piano with a fishbowl stuffed with bread. He'd be screaming, "Alright, who put the bread in my jar?"
- I'd need more than one to do a series, though.
- I can't think of anything else, but I'm sure I could if I wasn't so tired. Maybe later.
- It shouldn't be illegal to ram someone from behind if they are in the fast lane doing 50.
- It would also be fun to do a web comic about misheard song lyrics. I'd start with Reverend Bluejeans.
- Although I feel certain that's been done. I would think. Maybe.
- I've got to call Morgan.
- Why do I only think to call people when it's the crack of dawn and no one on the planet is awake. I'll forget before it's a normal hour.
- I wonder if my phone needs charging.
In between all that, I'm singing along with the radio and answering the never-ending stream of "Mommy, mommy, MOMMEEEEE," for the back two seats. Not to mention, just generally trying to keep myself awake.
But, at least the countdown is on. Nine, Nine more mornings of tortured. Hahaha Ha.