Scream

I should be sleeping, but I'm screaming.

(And nobody hears it but me.)

***

My name...my name should've been on that list.

***

Dinner of cat food. The new maid opened the can upside down. I let go of it. There are more than one wayS to open a tub of tuna. Betsy is lotioned with tuna oil. I have been composing this text message for a good part of the day, thinking many, many, many times if I am to send it. I hate it when I'm indecisive.

***

Today was one of those days that I realize the utter pointlessness of my job. It was a day from hell. I was left with barely enough energy to change from my 5-inch heels to my reliable flip flops. I just want to wrap myself in a big enough carpet, and roll on the road all the way home. I'd care not I'd become a human hump. I was just...spent.

I should be sleeping now. I should be dreaming of (and in) cat hair. But I am still awake. Staring at a blinking cursor. Popping a blooming pimple on my nape. Talking to Cezar. Cursing. Wondering. Just wondering.

***

"I am tired of being snapped at. I am tired of being perpetually wrong. I am tired of saying sorry. I am just plain effing tired. I know you are, too. Thanks for the better times."

Sending...

"CHECK OPERATOR SERVICES"