The Bad Dreams just keep on coming.
I don’t think anyone could have a good day after an imaginary gang of little kids taunt me and mock me, calling me PIG VOMIT over and over and over. One of those Bad Toddlers deliberately drooled schpittle down to splash my skin.
Waking up was the best part of my day. That’s a good thing.
But as of 6:16 pm, I cannot say I see anything on the horizon to make me feel like swinging from the chandeliers. If I had a chandelier.
The night is young. There’s still time to turn my blahs into blessings.
(Who am I kidding? This day is done and it’s going to take a miracle to turn this day around. If pig vomit could fly…)
PAMELA ROSS WRITES 
Good grief. Were these rapacious (definition 3 ie predatory) toddlers a metaphor? In a dream? Real life? Good grief. Tomorrow is a better day. We should have had an outing for my b-day to avoid this kind of day and I should bring the “entertainment”!!!
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