tri again
09-08-2011, 03:32 AM
Noticed this all lately.
Gotta do paperfreakin' work to mow fer godssake.
Wake up, drink coffee, feel like running the tractor.
Simple enough.
but nooooooo, gotta return a couple phone calls, make copies and get stuff in the mail.
Now it's too hot to mow.
Wanna tear into that 125m trans. the other day. Cool.
Magical mystery tour. Even have a spare engine to open up first and use for parts.
nope, certified letter needs to be signed for at the post office.
By the time I get home, there's 7 msgs on the machine, all wanting immediate attention, of course.
Too hot to work now so I give up.
Kids? How's school? No Homework, YaY!
I hate to tell them that they're gonna have to touch some sort of freakin' paper every day for the rest of their lives.
It never ends and more than half the mail isn't even good to start fires in the woodstove with.
Maybe it's just me but everyone in the post office has the same disgusted look on their faces as they unload their packed boxes and throw most of it right in the trash, all while shaking their heads.
I know, tomorrow I'll hide my truck behind the barn, get on a trike
and go down by the river with a fishin' pole and some lures with no hooks.
No one will ever find me.
except the game warden and he prob wants, you guess it, some paperwork.
Gotta do paperfreakin' work to mow fer godssake.
Wake up, drink coffee, feel like running the tractor.
Simple enough.
but nooooooo, gotta return a couple phone calls, make copies and get stuff in the mail.
Now it's too hot to mow.
Wanna tear into that 125m trans. the other day. Cool.
Magical mystery tour. Even have a spare engine to open up first and use for parts.
nope, certified letter needs to be signed for at the post office.
By the time I get home, there's 7 msgs on the machine, all wanting immediate attention, of course.
Too hot to work now so I give up.
Kids? How's school? No Homework, YaY!
I hate to tell them that they're gonna have to touch some sort of freakin' paper every day for the rest of their lives.
It never ends and more than half the mail isn't even good to start fires in the woodstove with.
Maybe it's just me but everyone in the post office has the same disgusted look on their faces as they unload their packed boxes and throw most of it right in the trash, all while shaking their heads.
I know, tomorrow I'll hide my truck behind the barn, get on a trike
and go down by the river with a fishin' pole and some lures with no hooks.
No one will ever find me.
except the game warden and he prob wants, you guess it, some paperwork.