4:17 a.m.

“You have really outdone yourself this time, Chevy,” is what I thought (or possibly said aloud) when my fat, furry child awoke me this morning with that adorable purr-meow that sounds like a question mark after it turned into yowling so annoying that my eyes began bleeding rage.
I kicked her butt to the curb.
Not literally. I shoved her and her spotted sister, Astrid, into the back yard and closed the door so that the loud one could not awake me again.
Now I will never know what would have happened in dream land, where Patricia was turning pages of my report and reading to me from files at her desk while I ate cake. It was actually a pleasant interaction, which made it so obviously a dream.
I returned to slumber to dream again about tornadoes.
I used asterisks to separate thoughts just like my publisher does in his columns. I’m so young and impressionable.
I’m mostly just impressionable, I guess.
A guy on “America’s Got Talent” last night (yeah, I watched it, I’m already dumber) said his name was Udi Abagnale, and then he gave an alternate pronunciation of his last name.
Why would you give people an optional pronunciation for your own last name? Don’t you kind of reserve the right to dictate how it’s pronounced?
And if you’re going to give people an option, you should definitely mess with them.
I’m Leona West — or it’s sometimes pronounced Leona Shotgun.
Today is annoying me. I’ve been annoyed all week. All two days of it.
I guess turnabout is fair play, considering how much time I spend annoying other people — spraying Patricia on the back of her neck with canned air while she is on the phone; making the “hook ‘em horns” sign at Matt; saying anything at all that contradicts JessiCat; showing Lane any kind of affection while in public; saying rude things about Jimbo when he is just within hearing (which is like, two feet, because he is old and deaf and walked with a walker for a while).
Speaking of frustration and annoyance, nothing riles up Patricia more than not knowing something about Matty. She is such a stalker. And the only person who reads my blog. But it doesn’t matter how much I insult you, Patty, you will continue to come back every day, fervently hoping that I have something new about eating 12 oz. of peas.

3 thoughts on “4:17 a.m.

  1. It’s obvious Sarah, you should never leave dream land. You seem to function at a much higher level while there. Eerily human like. America’s Got Talent, poking fun at the elderly, terrorizing the youth are all signs that your bi-polar brain needs to remain in slumber.
    As for my obession for all things Matty(ie), I can’t help it Although I have yet to meet him (and there is considerable evidence that he is imaginary), I worry about him. My mind is full of questions, does he know the REAL Sarah? Does he only wear his hair in a pony tail while riding his Harley? Is he suffering from PTSD? Does he actually read the BHFP? Does he approve of Sarah’s FTW/Forever Truly White tattoo?
    These are the things that keep me up at night, and worrying you might choke on 12 oz. of peas.

  2. Hmm…I’ve found the fabled blog. And I see that one of your tags is “texas.” Interesting. By “interesting” I mean it’s probably a ploy to annoy me with the same weak attempt as the hook ’em sign. Didn’t we agree that all people Texan believe themselves to be better (greater, bigger, prettier/handsomer…), and that this fact alone was quite annoying? No matter, whenever you make the hook ’em sign I just pretend you’re rocking out to U2.

    And Patty – you still don’t believe in me? What do I have to do? Send you a picture of the back of my head?

    P.S. – Patty, I’m always open to new information on the “real” Sarah…

    1. Well hello Matthew Hilton. I will assume, for now, that you are a breathing human. But enough of the cordial greeting. We must continue the endeavor to find the “real” Sarah.

      Assuming Sarah is “real” in any fashion is somewhat of a paradox. Sure, there are many dimensions to her, novice writer, devoted daughter to her adopted family, intermittent friend, Sarah Palin supporter, follower of Chen Tao, a rabid fan of The Office, hot dog packager, hair twirler and public nuisance. I know you have met demon cat Chevy and witnessed the unholy bond she has with that creature-talk about abhorent behavior. Does anyone really know Sarah Leona West? The question haunts me.

      I have devoted many hours searching for the “real” Sarah, and I am glad to see you are beginning your journey into the darkness. This blog is just a taste of what you will find if you dig deep enough. Sarah stalking is not for the faint of heart…be prepared Matt, harden your heart and shield your soul, it’s not pretty. Remember, if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

      I wish you peace.

      P.S. She did send me a purported picture of the back of your head. Such tomfoolery.

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