I am a negative, cynical, curmudgeonly bastard.
I blame it on NPR.
Normally I am woken to the grating voice of one or another Stalin-nostalgist declaiming our utter hopelessness of purpose in this, that, or the other war/initiative/three-legged sack race.
Today, not only do I get my daily dose of unremitting negativity but one revoltingly cheerful bastard actually announced that it was Thursday.
Damn his eyes. Damn his duck-pond! Thursday would be delightful. Thursday is a beer-drinking day, and a night of high revelry.
It’s small wonder I start every day pissed off. How could I behave otherwise when the world starts f**king with me before I even get one eye open?