If words were colours, what colour would "disgust" be?

Disgust. 

Black?  A shitty brown?  No, in this case it's white.  A frigid, ugly, gross, sloppy, disgusting white. 

Disgust.

As defined in the Merriam Webster online dictionary:  "marked aversion aroused by something highly distasteful:  repugnance".

As defined by Michelle:  "waking up to 2 inches of snow covering her beautiful apple tree and patio table and chairs:  repugnance."

See?  Lookit:

Fucking disgusting white shit all over my yard.  The only one who seems to show any appreciation to this disgust is the dog.  He decided to rip around the yard, digging his nails into the soft ground as he tore around the tree, barking and wagging his tail, lapping up the white stuff and tossing snow around with his nose.  Stupid dog.  What does he know anyway?

He's sleeping now after his big burst of energy.  He will likely require 12 hours of uninterrupted deep snoring to re-energize.  Best not to wake him.

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Last night the man confessed that he was concerned about waking up with me in the mornings for the next 6 weeks while he recovers from his hernia surgery on Tuesday.  See, he's up and off to work in the middle of the night and I usually don't see him.  Well, except for the other day when he decided to eat peanut butter toast in living room, crunching away and smacking his lips, and I really believe he was doing it extra loudly  for my benefit (mmmm....good toast....creamy peanut butter, *smack, smack, smack, slurp, crunch* .... you know you want some....).  After plotting his murder, I stomped out and glared at him.  Must you do that right now? I said (in my defence, it was said in a very loving, sweet voice but I guess he missed that part), and stomped into the bathroom.  The nerve!  Anyway, apparently he and the child had discussed this little "morning concern" and the child advised the man to just stay out of the way and "not make eye contact".  I really don't see what the big deal is, I'm actually quite civil in the morning. My ears are just rather sensitive in the morning, that's all.  It's not my fault.  I assured him that everything will be juuuuuuust fine as long as he doesn't move until I leave.  See how accommodating I can be?

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It was a terribly busy week here this week.  It was the child's FIFTEENTH birthday.  15!  Good Lord!!  After struggling for weeks over what to buy him, we decided on a lap top.  Admittedly it's a very expensive gift, but he's generally a good kid.  I warned him that every site he hits will show up on my bill, that it was a parental thing offered by the internet company.  I told him he could go to any girly/titty site he wanted, (because he's a boy and will be doing it anyway), but that if I ever, EVER found out he was on a chat site, all of his electronics would be taken away from him forever.  Of course, I have no real way of monitoring this, but he really seemed to believe me, asking all sorts of questions about how the internet companies do this to which I responded with very legit, reasonable answers.  Isn't it scary how quickly I came up with such stories?  It must be a parent thing.  Yup, that's gotta be it.  Right?

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It's so lovely having school-free weekends with nothing to do and no studying or writing to be done.  I'm bored to tears actually.  Life after school?  I can't even imagine.  Just a few more weeks to go before I dig my teeth in again.  I suppose I should try to enjoy the quiet time.

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