Can somebody just shoot me? I promise I’ll hold still.

Gah. Talk about your precipitous rides in a Hades-directed woven container. I don’t know if it’s something in the water or what, but for the past few days, the behavior of a few of the afterschool kids has been seriously deteriorating to the point of unmanagability. No doubt it has something to do with the fact that my sum total of experience dealing with kids is something like…uh…a month and a half. But there seems to be something else going on, as well. There are a few kids who just set each other off like yappy dogs fighting over their square foot of turf, and a few which feed off each other’s bad behavior like Japanese atomic bomb fallout and lizards with growth hormone issues.

Yes, folks, Kidzilla has entered the building, and the stompage has begun. Of course, Kidzilla isn’t one particular kid. Apparently the Kidzilla mantle falls to someone different every day. But today, they were passing it around like the salsa plate at a Mexican wrestling championship. And by the time we got it at least somewhat in hand, there was nothing left but a plateful of soggy crumbs. And a few smears of fiery sauce. But mostly crumbs.

So here I am, left with little of my mind but the remains of a postful of crappy similes and an intense craving for medicinal levels of dark chocolate. Which I do not happen to have on hand.

And if that weren’t bad enough, the hubster has to get to work early tomorrow which means I have to get to work early tomorrow. As if 6:30 weren’t early enough to be rising and shining glinting rustily in the glow of the dark-thirty street lamps, now I’m looking at maybe 6. AM. 6AM. Crud.

One may be the loneliest number, but 6AM vies heavily for the suckiest.

So now I’m mentally embattled from the ongoing siege of Kidzilla, painfully crippled with shoulder pain that may or may not be covered under our insurance and unreasonable desirous of an early death. Now I gotta deal with all that at 6-freaking-o’clock A-freaking-M?

*unprintable content deleted*

Really, just stand me up against a wall and I will draw the target onto my forehead myself. Just promise me you’ll aim steady?

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