Acting rich isn't all it's cracked up to be...

So I'm still as sane as I was before - or no more insane than... you get the gist.
And you know why? Because this is the first class that I had to deal with on my trip back: no fancy lamp on/in the head rest, hardly any leg room, a bit of tomato stuck between the window and the air vent... Second class, then, except cheaper.
I'm seriously considering asking for reimbursement.
Also. If you think that rich people act better, I have news for you. They pick their noses in public like the best of us beggars.
Now... when I say I'm no more insane than last week, I might be stretching the truth a bit. I actually lost the remainder of my marbles due to the very deliberate attack of a dragonfly, aided and abetted by a mammoth moth. Yes, they were ganging up on me, I could tell, stop it!
Now... when I say "attack", I might also be stretching the truth ever so slightly. Still. There was definite waiting. For me. For the right time to pounce. For the right area of flesh to be attainable for easy biting. I suspect that if my dad hadn't come back and killed them both ruthlessly to save me, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be wearing a nice padded jacket, arms firmly folded against my chest, eyes rolling wildly, mixing profanities and high-pitched shrieks with the skill of a very experienced DJ, while a tiny but growing thread of spittle glistening in the glare of the neon light would finally justify the title of this blog.
But hey. They're dead, and I'm still loose. Acting rich mightn't be all it's cracked up to be, but it sure beats acting sane.