Cussing Tired.

Have you at any time been so tired that all you want to do is sit down and cuss quietly as you give your mind over to the haze of exhaustion?

Perhaps most of you do this already without qualm. If so, no problem, God bless America for freedom of speech. You go, girl, and all of that. I'm just not generally given over to coarse language... perhaps it's due to a youth full of purposefully avoiding all of the vices of a less than favorable father figure, one of which was that could not seemingly utter five words without a growled expletive, or maybe that I believe there are usually far better ways to express a feeling or what not... Today I'm a bit more free than I ever have been with the colorful language bits, but even then the prudish, judgmental aspect of my self-image finds it contemptible that I'd resort to the baser slurs.

At times, though, nothing else seems to fit. No other words are quite appropriate or can fill the void of exhaustion when it feels as though it would be too much effort to reach up and simply pet the cat.... which is o.k., since she sees fit to dig her head under my hand anyway for sort of a self-service cat scratch, but you get the point.

(*bleep*)