Dark Thoughts

I always thought criminals were a totally different breed of people. Whatever leads them to commit their crimes is something us ordinary folks just don't have. But after yesterday, I believe I may have what it takes to assassinate someone. I woke up with a headache and thought it would eventually go away. What was a discomfort at first, soon turned into a splitting migraine. I took a pill and tried to sleep it off. My 6 year old interrupted my frustrated nap 3 times so I gave that up, got up and after taking another pill, sat and waited. That's when it happened. Our nextdoor neighbors decided to sing karioke. (I do not know how to spell it and do not want to learn) My migraine had gotten to the point where I didn't know if my brain was going to explode my skull or if it had shrunk to the size of a pea and had rolled down to my stomach and was making me sick. I think it might have been the latter because when I tried to turn my head it felt hallow inside. The singing started and wouldn't stop, not even between songs. The performances were the type Simon, from American Idol, would have commented: "Dreadful. One of the worst performances of my life. Go back to your day job f o r e v e r!" But Simon wasn't here to send them crying out of the room so I started to imagine how I would kill them if I could. The music was too low and there were 2 microphones, which of course were too high, so all we could hear was their voices with no music. What was worse was that I knew all the songs, so there was no way I could not follow along. Even a century-old-extremely-experinced-in-meditation-buddhist monk couldn't have blocked out the singing. I also started praying, not that my headache would go away, but that we'd have one of those Amazon thunder storms and that lightning would hit their kareoke machine and electrocute each and everyone of them. That, unfortunately didn't happen nor did they stop singing. Later, my husband got home and offered to take me to the hospital, afraid that some brain tumor might have altered my usually happy and light personality(well, maybe those aren't the right words to describe me)into some Mr. Hyde creature. I lied telling him everything was just fine. Then, waited a little longer while thinking that throwing the firecrackers we had bought the day before into their backyard might get my whole family in trouble. So, I then decided to take the kids to a party they had been waiting the whole day to go to. My brain had gone into the jelly stage and I was scared it might start leaking out my ears. I put the kids into the car and told them to only whisper the rest of the evening or monsters would hear them and come take them away and eat them. We made it through the night. Today, I feel like I have a really bad hangover. I believe the only difference between me and Charles Manson is that he had no reason to do what he did. I, on the other hand, would have a good motive. I'm sure the police would understand.