*sigh*

PEEPS.

I….. sighs

I have officially reached the conclusion that someone has hired a swamp witch, a forest goblin clan, and the entire fucking woodland community to put a curse on me.

There is NO OTHER EXPLANATION.

This morning…

I woke up before my alarm.

Not a little before.

4:00 A.M.

FOUR.

IN.

THE.

MORNING.

Why?

WHO THE HELL KNOWS.

My brain apparently decided today was the perfect time to contemplate life, the universe, every embarrassing thing I’ve done since kindergarten, and whether raccoons have organized crime families.

(They HAVE to…right?)

So there I am…

Wide awake.

Staring at the ceiling.

Questioning every life decision that has brought me to this exact moment.

Finally I gave up.

Dragged my exhausted ass into the kitchen because surely…

SURELY…

Coffee would save me.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

NO.

My coffee pot has apparently decided it’s done participating in society.

It doesn’t brew coffee anymore.

It just spits and leaks boiling hot-ass water all over my countertop and floor like it’s trying to recreate Old Faithful.

I managed to get about 2½ ounces of what can only be described as…

Coffee LaCroix.

The idea of coffee.

Coffee’s emotionally unavailable cousin.

This shit is so weak I think the coffee beans just waved at the water as it walked by.

So I’m thinking…

“It’s fine. I’ll go sit in my peaceful little zen spot on the deck.”

I sat down.

Got comfy.

Started calming down…

And then…

BOOM.

WRONG.

OUT OF ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOWHERE…

A BIG ASS CROW lands LESS THAN A FOOT FROM ME.

THUD.

Just standing there.

Looking directly at me like…

“Mornin’, Heather. Rough day?”

(In a British accent, obviously.)

I say this with my entire being…

GET THE FUCK OFF MY DECK, YOU FEATHERED ASSHOLE.

And then I remembered…

THIS IS THE SAME DECK…

WHERE YESTERDAY…

Some unidentified woodland criminal climbed up and TOOK A SHIT ON MY TABLE.

NOT THE YARD.

NOT THE GRASS.

THE TABLE.

THE ACTUAL FUCKING TABLE.

The crow wasn’t visiting.

He was conducting quality control.

At this point I’m convinced the wildlife has a neighborhood Facebook group where they coordinate ways to inconvenience me.

“Hey guys…Heather’s outside.”

“Bet.”

I don’t know what kind of Disney Princess contract some of you people signed…

But nature hates ME.

Mother Nature and I have officially filed for divorce.

FUCK NATURE.

FUCK THE OUTSIDE.

The birds are assholes.

The squirrels are probably in on it.

The raccoons are DEFINITELY the masterminds.

And whatever took a dump on my table yesterday is obviously the Godfather of this entire operation.

Also…

IT IS ONLY…

6:14 A.M.

SIX.

FOURTEEN.

IN.

THE.

MORNING.

Do you understand how much of today I have already TODAY’D?!

I’ve been awake for OVER TWO HOURS…

WITHOUT REAL COFFEE.

By 9:00 I’ll feel like I’ve lived an entire year.

By noon I’ll probably be speaking fluent crow…

(You know…so I can cuss at them in their own language.)

By supper I’ll either have solved all the world’s problems…

Or I’ll be fist-fighting whatever poor woodland creature makes eye contact with me because it was looking at me funny.

AND THEN…

As if this entire dumpster fire wasn’t enough…

I looked at the calendar.

It’s.

Only.

Fucking.

TUESDAY.

YOU GUYS.

I HAVE TO SURVIVE UNTIL FRIDAY WITHOUT A COFFEE POT.

I’d like everyone to start making funeral arrangements immediately.

Instead of flowers…

Please bring coffee.

And your favorite snacks.

Instead of a eulogy…

I would like the service to begin with the sound of a coffee maker brewing while everyone participates in mandatory Music Appreciation Hour.

If you don’t hear from me by Friday…

Assume the wildlife won.

Tell my family I loved them.

Tell my children to avenge me.

Tell Matt I died doing what I loved…

Complaining.

And tell that crow…

AND HIS ENTIRE FEATHERED STREET GANG…

This isn’t over, bitches.

NOT.

BY.

A.

LONG.

SHOT.