Tweeting Torture...

Moving into a new house is always such a lot of hardwork and toil. After all the movers and packers lifting your heavy refrigerator and luggage do need to be told where to put all the stuff. And all that directing is really tiring!

Anyway, after painstakingly putting together your stuff and postponing all planned improvements on the house the only thing you want is a long night's deep relaxing sleep. And of course with the next day being a Saturday you tend to go to bed late (it's back to the school days when you'd be sent off to sleep by 10 on school days and were allowed to stay awake over the weekend. Another weird digression - I used to polish my shoes and pack my school bag by 7:30 pm everyday in primary school. And I remember getting extremely stressed out once when it was beyond 7:30 and i hadn't polished my shoes yet. Weird things we take too seriously as kids, huh? :) ). Accordingly I went to bed, read a bit, switched off the light, gazed at the stars, moon, saturn, rocketships glowing overhead (what? you haven't read the previous post? Go, go now- read it, i'll wait for you to come back)and then gently lulled into a peaceful, gentle doze that pretty soon transmogrified (Calvin & Hobbes) into a deep blissful I-didn't-put-the-alarm-cos-I-can-get-up-anytime-tomorrow sleep. I can imagine angels coming down from the heavens, staring at my beatific smile and proclaiming - here sleeps a man at peace with the world, atleast for 2 nights a week, that is.

A beautiful vision isn't it...


Alas, the world conspires to shake up any beautiful peaceful visions.

My house is on the first floor surreounded with groves of trees teeming with arboreal colonies of freakin' rat-a-tat birds who scream like there's no tomorrow at exactly 5:59 am in the BLOODY morning!

And there's this particularly sadistic bird that goes 'KEKEKEKEKEKE' and stops...and just as you're lulled into a false sense of hope that it flew away, its vocal chords collapsed or a a meteorite hit it (in order of increasing hope)- 'KEKEKEKEKEKE deux'


I swear if I get my hands on that bird I'll pluck it a feather at a time, and after plucking each feather I'd put some salt on the still-sore area...then wait a bit for the sting to go down...then proceed to pluck the next feather. Ok, this is beginnning to sound extremely sadistic.

But in my defense - it started it!!!