Grumpy McCrabbypants

Thanks to the subway being slow, me being late to work, and the fact that it's currently hotter than Baptist hell in my office, I'm in a bit of a cranky mood. If you could see me right now, I'm all tense-shouldered, scowly-faced and I'm threating everyone that walks past my cube by shaking my fist and saying, "You want a piece of me, tough guy?" Okay, when I say "everyone" I mean "the 60-year-old office assistants" because there are some pretty big guys that work here, ex-jocks probably, and they'd have me in a headlock faster than I could scream out, "I bruise easy, stop it!!!"

Anyway, because I'm grumpy and irascible today and need to somehow focus the venting of my spleen, here are three things that are currently in my line of whiny, white-boy rage:

1. Bobby Flay - Has there ever been a bigger douche on TV? He's fairly smarmy and obnoxious when he's just demonstrating how to grill a steak, but now he's got this new show where he finds people who are really good at cooking a particular dish (pizza, for example) then he shows up to their houses and says, "Hey, I can cook better than you. Let's have a cook-off so I can prove it." He, a professional chef, if challenging amatuer chefs so he can kick their asses on national TV. This is the equivilent of the star quarterback picking on the guy in the Lord of the Rings t-shirt, but with food. Asshole.

2. The N Train - Apparently somewhere between the 59th street stop and the 36th street stop, there are great herds of cattle who graze and amble about and, occasionally, need to be cleared from the tracks so the trains can pass. I'm assuming that that's why we stop in the tunnel every day during rush hour for ten or fifteen minutes. Not that I don't enjoy standing in a hot, unmoving subway car next to a large sweating man who's giving the car an impromptu hip-hop performance while listening to his iPod and forgeting that, yes, we can hear you when you rap along out loud, there, my gangsta friend.

3. My Own Worthless Butt - There's this scene in Evil Dead where Ash is looking in the mirror and all of a sudden, his reflection reaches out and grabs him, all menacing-like. I wish I could do that with myself. I'd like to kick my own ass for not being more productive with the writing and with the career advancement. I have this awesome play that's so close to being done and, yet, I can't seal the envelope on it. I suck royally and I know it.

Whew... that feels better. All is sunshine and light. Now... time to input invoices! That's sure to put a spring in my step! Trying to stay positive here, but sometimes... boulder up a hill, you know.