Elephant Wrestlers

There I was, after a pretty rough day at the office, having just finished some leftover comfort food, trying to relax and watch some psycho bitch on American Idol (I SWEAR I only caught it because I was flipping channels and it cracked me up because at one point during the day I really felt like flipping out like she did).

Anyway. Miss Mads is curled up on my feet, being nice and mellow, the phone was off, and all was getting right with the world. Ohm......

All of a sudden, the sky was falling. I KNOW the ceiling was about to cave in, because my neighbors had a herd of wild elephants running around. They were up and down the stairs outside. They were in every room of their apartment. I think they must have been charging admission for some sick elephant mud-wrestling competition. The thought was unnerving, and I almost called animal control. Seriously.

How can one relax with such ruckus going on? It's bad enough that I have to ask the receptionist to turn down her music 50 times a day and pray that her disruptiveness isn't out of control, so when I get home, god dammit, I likes me some quiet time. What the hell? I'm not trying to be an uptight bitch, just deserve a little respect, is all. I don't go beating on my ceiling for the hell of it, right?

This went on for a good hour or so, long enough to get the dog all riled up and barking her head off. NICE. I was going to run up and just knock and say, "step lightly, please!" But one of the elephants must have taken the championship and got a trophy full of peanuts or something, because just as I got my shoes on, the stampede stopped.

I'm running a nice, hot bubble bath as we speak, to at least TRY to get to the Zen I was feeling a little while ago. Those elephants better behave, too, or I'm getting the fucking tranq gun.