The Thirteen Hours of English Muffin Torture

tonight is friday the 13th
and i suppose it's fitting
that i worked a 13 hour
day that felt like a knife
wound. whew. worse
than a rehearsal...haha

i sit there
water pouring
down my arms
bits of breakfast
lunch and dinner
and the pleasantries
in between, or the
shameless noising
about how your
english muffin is
overdone
(even though
it's the same
as yesterday
and everyday before,
the way you liked it)
but when i cook your
muffin, i'm wrong
when i put out your
coffee mugs you can't
see them, and scream and
shout until you realize they
are sitting
in front
of you
or your water goblets are
still not filled correctly
so you go to the
head-of-everything
and complain
and get your water
(of course it's not poured right,
but thanks for letting me slide on that)
and you never drink one sip
you want attention
from me
from me
from me
and not the rest of them
why?
because i'm the only
guy there that's attractive
sometimes i'm the only...guy.
i appreciate the compliment
its not easy being the most
gorgeous guy in the world
but i also happen to be madly
smitten with the most beautiful
girl in the world.
so ladies...
i regret to
inform you,
but i'm taken.

but you're lucky
enough to have
squeezed a blog
entry out of me

time for bed

"And it’s draining all of me
Oh they find it hard to believe
I’ll be wearing these scars
For everyone to see" L.L.