Tomalaberbone

Today's blog begins about nothing, but my back is up because my friend Carrie's blog is way better than mine. She is transcribing old letters, journal entries and crack scrawls, and it's coming across far better than my unbelievable needs.
I am now a member of ASCAP, The American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers. My publishing company is Believable TV Music. Let the money roll in... Sheesh.
My mail box is small, my physical, federal mail box that is, Yahoo is kicking Uncle Sam's ass when it comes to storage space. I am a child about getting to retrieve the mail, I race my domestic partner for it. I have been expecting a package from my Uncle Ronnie, also more generous that Sam. Upon opening the mail last night I was disappointed to see that it was not there, that is until further inspection proved that it was there, but lodged up in the very top portion, unretrievable by anyone but the asshat who put it there. I am angry. There, sitting in my tiny box is my item, and I can feel it, but I can't have it. Could anything be more annoying to a child who get's excited over the mail than to have your mail in your box but you can't get it out w/out breaking it?
My busses have been running late. I have missed my morning train 5 out the last 7 days. What are these people doing? I don't understand, evev through all of their fucking up I have still managed to make it to work on time, 7 out of these last 7 days. Why do I bother?