I am in a foul mood, and it is PMS, though I am not Rysdad’s co-worker! I turn into a psycho driver because of all those fucks out there that think they need to drive the fucking speed limit. Dammit - faster - you fools! Think you need to obey the traffic laws - who the hell do you think you are!
It didn’t help that Bob and Tom were not particularly amusing to me this morning. Maybe I need some lolcats. I need something to make me smile.
Deep breaths and relax. Unclench the jaw and relax the muscles.
I have at least a foot of snow on my driveway. Stupid snow. Stupid wind.
When (if) the wind dies down today, I will suit up the small ones and go and try and remove it.
That will be fun.
Why do normally sensible adults feel the need to become adolescents on Facebook and need to use short cuts like “tomoro” instead of typing the word? And then type a verbose message anyway.
I’m of the opinion that most of them just can’t spell. I’m almost on the verge of making my next status something like, “If you can’t spell the most basic of words, you are BANISHED, varlets!” I probably won’t, but damn, I really want to.
Eye doctors’ office, why do you have an email address on your site that says “Click here to schedule an appointment! Be sure to include the doctor you see, the dates and times you’re available, and all your contact information” when all you’re going to do is call me the next day and ignore all of the information I included in the email you obviously had to read at to be able to call me back?
But I don’t have time right now to gather all the reference material. That big leak where BP’s rig blew up? It’s worse than previously reported…
Fucking BP, with its absolutely abysmal safety record, mostly just kills oil field trash. But word is getting out. I’ve been watching the company’s antics since the Texas City refinery explosion that killed 15 in 2005. And retching over the cloying commercials showing just how “alternative” the company was getting…
Why, thank you. I’ve been plotting my revenge for quite some time, so I’ve had time to think about it.
Ugh. I’ve had the worst week. Got into a stupid argument with my husband again last night. This one was bad enough I had to leave for a while to cool down. The whole thing started when our preschooler brought home a work sheet from school showing that he’d been working on his letters. Apparently he’d forgotten some, which the teacher noted. My husband’s response was to say that he was “just average,” even possibly slow-witted and that it was completely unacceptable that he not know all his letters now. He further commented that I might have lower standards, but our kid had to perform better and we were failing as parents because we didn’t work with him using flash cards every day. Then he complained about the state of the house, then the kitchen until I finally started crying. He went outside to play soccer with our son (after picking at him a few times and telling him he wouldn’t play with him, which made him cry), so I put the baby in the stroller and left. When I got back, I was accused of being over-emotional (probably true) and retorted that I didn’t like feeling as though I had to constantly defend our son and that I would really appreciate it if he didn’t make me feel like there was nothing good in our lives. What a fucking nightmare - he’s turning into his father and I’m turning into my mother.
I need a counsellor and also think that we need some marital and family help. Our relationship has been on hold since the birth of our daughter and we’re both starting to crack. Plus, my husband has been increasingly critical of our four-year-old son, which I think is part of the reason he’s not meeting my husband’s high expectations. That and some of the things my husband is demanding are not developmentally reasonable (yeah, the foundations for addition and subtraction are there, but expecting our kid to be able to read and do math I think are unreasonable). And I’ve been getting ridiculously emotional lately because when my husband gets pissed (which is several times daily now), he dumps both children on me and checks out mentally.
We’re going out on a dinner date tomorrow to talk - kids are going to be at home with a babysitter Hopefully that’ll help, at least in the short term. This sucks.
My nosey next-door neighbor who knocked on my door last night demanding to see my cat to make sure he was okay after she heard me yelling at him to get out from behind the TeeVee. This lady needs a hobby other than holding a glass up to the paper thin wall that separates our condos listening for evidence of malfeasance.
It’s is going to be a long year in this place if I have to explain myself to this old biddy every time the cat pisses me off. Or I drop a plate or stub my toe or murder a prostitute and hide her under the floor boards.
I’m tired of being pregnant. 33 weeks done, now, and my skin hurts. Round ligament pain, check. “Morning” sickness, check. Weird emotionality, check. Contractions if I exert myself any more than slightly, check. Difficulty breathing because of rib-cage-space constraints, check.
I once saw a Barbie-style doll that had a snap-off pregnant belly, with a baby dolly in it, and a flat belly to swap out. That is what I want to do - just snap off the front of my abdomen and set it down someplace.
I’m happy to be getting a baby, healthy, etc., etc., but dang if this isn’t a really long, tedious, painful process.
Just kidding! 
But yea, July!