The Sound of a Loud Voice Next to an Aching Head.

I'm fascinated by my own crankiness. I feel like I can hear the people in the brick house across the street chewing their food. Like a draft is following me around. Like I am in my recurring dream about not being able to type in my name to check in for my flight. I keep typing and the letters keep coming up ahskjadsakj argh. I feel like I put a twenty in a dollar bill pop machine slot. Like someone just told me something I already know and then drank my last beer. Like I have to clean a bathroom, get an oil change, or wait for a senior citizen to write a check. Like I'm at a movie and the people in front of me are texting and the people behind me are talking, talking, talking. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up so I can just just concentrate, type in my name, get on my plane, and fall asleep.