Fucking couldnt find me keys this morning

Fucking couldnt find me key this morning. Looked everywhere. I always make loads of noise in the mornings which pisses the missus off no end because she gets an extra half hour sleep when I'm quiet. But what does she expect like, I'm clumsy and it's dark. Pitch dark. It's like creeping through a cave full of bats or something. One false move and the screeching begins.

And begin it did. And she was so pissed off her rant woke the four year old. And she goes in and wakes the eight year old, who is a fucking bear in the mornings, and not an eight year old bear, a fucking monster of a thing who'll chase you down out of the rockies and make you wee yourself, but metaphorically, obviously.

But the bear is a mouse compared to the TEENAGER. The teenager is worse than the bear because it has 'artificial intelligence'. It's like the bear, but creates the illusion of actually knowing what it's doing. Which means rushing out of her room all bleary eyed and taking the whole family to task. Like the bear with a sort of king solomon add-on that's banjaxed.

All of the above, to make things worse, are female. Plus, I don't really need the keys. There's always someone in when I come home. All that grief for fucking nothing.

A family is like a raft, adrift in an ocean, and one person has the rudder, if the person with the rudder is distracted because everybody is running around shaking the raft the raft goes nowhere and the person just says fuck this and storms off to get the bus to work.

And forgets to brush his teeth.

And drops his money down the shore just as the bus is coming, the bus that I have to get or I'll be late for work, the bus with the driver who looked like he saw the little silver and gold flicker of the money falling out of my hand and stopped the bus so that the tyre went over the shore just out of spite and I had to ask him to move the bus so I could get the money or say nothing.

I said nothing. The bus pulled off. Left me standing there in the rain. With my feet all soggy because I'd run through a fucking squelchy field so I could make the bus.

I want to go home. But it's not like I can send all them maniacs out to pluck money from trees. They're too busy sinking my raft. So off I go to work.

Walking in the fucking rain. Whoop de doo.

In desperation I stick out my thumb. And somebody actually stops.

It's a taxi.

Gas. The one time you don't want a taxi it stops.

I open the door thinking I'm gonna let this fucker have it. Make this guy pay for everything that's gone wrong this morning, especially the bus bit, but it turns out I know him. Sort of.

I know him, because I'm always, always, always late for work, and for some wierd reason I'm always late by exactly the same few minutes, and I miss the bus that just pulled off and end up saying bollox and trying to get a taxi.
And three times or so I've gotten this exact same guy, right at the start of his day, and sometimes I can tell he's not had a great start to it but he's putting on a brave face. So I like him. He's not you're typical wanky taximan. And we always have a nice chat. Not gay, just, nice like.

But that's when I have money. Today I'm broke. Recession and that.

So there he is looking up at me through his glasses with his red face (he either drinks too much whiskey or exfoliates with kitty litter), sorta smiling like howdy ol' pal! So I tell him what happened and he says hop in anyway.

Happy days.

I'm looking at the rain thinking fuck you weather, and I might actually make it into work now. But the driver says he has to go somewhere and will the Red Cow Luas do the job, and I'm miffed cause that means I'll be late but beggars can't be bastards so I say no probs and out he plops me at the Luas Stop.

The Red Cow luas stop is the bleakest most desolate place on earth. I liked it better when it was a field. I'm actually angry with the Luas for taking that field. So I bunk on. They're fucking asking for it anyway with their 'easy on-off, look at us we're cosmopolitan' bull.

So there ends this tale, because I'm lazy.

I might tell the rest tomorrow.

See I didn't make it into work. Or back home to get let in without my keys either, and the shit that went down when I ended up in Dr Quirkes with the fat girl and her Nigerian boyfriend is definitely blogworthy if I can find the time.