Cavemen?

I am trying to get back in touch with the world. It's been a world of too many notes. My Mister has given me a gift of the best cell phone around. And I've done nothing with it, such was I consumed with the too many notes. Miskin. I have to get round to trying it out. But I don't like change very much so it's going to be something difficult for me. Give me the most unplayable of music anytime. But a new cell phone will take some time getting used to. And it's a grand one, but somehow it doesn't make me tick. Perhaps I would have loved living in the caves, although I have never understood why cavemen had to knock their woman out to drag her to the cave. They could have smiled and been polite. They could have also smiled and been rude and vulgar. That would have made them a bad boy caveman and I like bad boys. So I'd have liked the cavemen, no need to knock me out. But then again what would I have done with my caveman's catch of the day? Stared at it? He'd probably have knocked me out even harder. No, it's best that I live in 2009 when I can come here and write. A carcass of a reindeer? No thanks, reindeer are Santa Claus' means of transport, they drink milk, they're nice. I guess I would have been the first woman to divorce a caveman. I really wonder what it was like for women back then. Imagine making out in a dark filthy cold cave, lying on your back with slime all over the place. That would have been seriously dangerous. One would have to concentrate on keeping her footing (backing?) or otherwise risk breaking her neck. And I do not see cavemen being polite and retreating had a woman to pull out the classic headache excuse. Ok, enough, I think the Gods were right in throwing me into today's world. There is no way I would have coped.

I will know

I haven't done much today although I've been out for most of the day. Supermarket shopping again, and again I hate these places full of people. Now it's getting worse. Me, with my all over the place hairstyle in an alien building and I get little people calling me Miss. Noooooo I don't want that, not in such a place. Supermarkets are no place for divas, and they cramp my style. I don't want to be seen dead in there let alone alive. That's it, I'm not going anymore, I hate it too much. I will starve if I have to. But I won't so it'll be ok. Now if someone had to build a diamond supermarket, that would be different. And now I really want to go to Antwerp. I want to go to Milano so I can wear my fur in peace. I don't feel quite right, but then I haven't recovered very much yet. Why the hell does it take so long for me to recover... it must be the Gods at it again. But then I haven't been bad in the slightest, so hey Gods will you give poor me a break. It seems not. But then I won't even give myself a break. Why the hell can't I ever finish anything without going back again and again? Because I have, in my sleep, encountered one other note which will probably not make much of a difference to anybody, but myself. So I will never ever deem my school project finished because I will keep going to add another note here and another note there. Because I want it to be perfect. And I know it's not doing any good to my health. I am not sleeping very well, because notes are haunting me, making me hallucinate. Let me try and be objective, it's one of the best arrangements I have ever done to date, mostly because it has been one of the most difficult. And I objectively and secretly know it's a job very well done, it's also a job which few people, if any, could do. Even more secretly, I'm sure nobody around could actually do what I've done. Because the sleepyhead of a music teacher, roaming corridors in a likewise sleepy manner can deliver splendidly when it comes to arrangements. I may look sleepy, but I'm not. I can be as alert as my cats here. And let me be a little brazen, people have knocked on my door to buy my arrangements. It doesn't surprise me in the least, they are excellent ones. And I am secretly very pleased. But just one note will rudely open the door to my sleep, and that's it, I just have to add another one. I will keep doing it until there is no room for anymore. Then I will rest. I know nobody will ever know if there is an extra note or not. But I will know, and for some reason, although I live in mayhem clutter, my music has to be perfect. Because I will know.