[staceyv]

I woke up this morning, it was my day off,
at the suggestion of cleaning, I replied with a scoff,
then I drove with my husband to bring him to work,
he made fun of me, laughed, and I called him a jerk.

I'm Italian, I can't help it, I talk with my hands,
what's so funny when I wave while I go over plans?
Anyway, we made up and I kissed him goodbye-
on the cheek, mind you, and I have a damn good reason why-

Honey has a cold sore- it's big red and mean,
the idea of kissing it is one of which I'm not too keen.
So I drove myself home and decided to cook,
I made clams and broccoli- about an hour I took.

I had to get that done early so the smells would all fade,
because my honey is allergic to the clams that I made.
That broccoli, oh the broccoli, did a number on me.
I shouldn't have eaten it, looking back, now I see,

I was foolish to think I could digest that much,
I know I should stay away from vegetables and such,
but it tasted so good- I think I have IBS,
now my tummy is bubbling and it will not rest.

My plans for the day were to go to the store,
exchange some shoes I can't wear anymore,
go to the library, check out a good book,
maybe fire up the grill so some fish I could cook,

because the freezer is full of mackerel, and you know,
it tastes so damn fishy, smoking it's the only way to go.
But alas, I ate broccoli, and feel like poo poo,
And now there is nothing that I want to doo doo,

And damn it, I told myself not to cut my own hair,
but yeah, I did it, only because it was there,
so now I have bangs, at least I kept the length long,
the stupid things'll grow out, until then it looks wrong.

I should've picked up a shift, I should've waited to eat,
but my whole day was ruined and I feel so damn beat.
All I'm good for now is to go watch tv,
or sit at the computer logged in as Staceyv

and write stupid poems at the cellar for all
to regret having read them, kind of makes me want to bawl.
And I don't know why I took the car,
I don't think I'll be driving far,
I got drunk last night after work at the bar,
that isn't helping either, 'kay, I'm done now, ta ta.

(that rhymes because in new england, you don't pronounce "r"s.)