Here’s a shocker that you’ll never believe. Ever. In a million, trillion, bazillion years.
I’m feeling pissy.
(This is what I look like, except with blue/gray/green eyes and slightly less pointy teeth, oh, and fat.)
Well, more than pissy, really. More like enraged. Like I’m just waiting for the final straw to break so I can go all She-Hulk. I usually feel this way 2-3 days before that bitch Aunt Flo comes for a visit. But, she just left. I also tend to feel this way when jacked full of Clomid. But I’m not. Is it possible that I’m just a naturally pissy person? Probably.
So why the rage fest today? I have no clue, but I wish it would go away. And also, I wish shit would quit happening that pisses me off. OK, so here’s some shit that pissed me off, you guys tell me if I’m being a hormonal she-beast (most likely), or if I should run away because I’m in the danger zone? Now I’m singing the song from Top Gun.
- Hubs says my arms are too big. Like Hulk Hogan big. He thought they were just fat, but then he saw me flex and now he’s scared of me punching him. He said that. To me. Dick! My reply: maybe you should tote the C’s around a little more… Carrying around 30 & 50 pounds on the weekends tends to build some muscle.
- Boss, ok, not going there will get too mad again. Suffice it to say there are days that working for an ultra small company is a very, very bad thing. OK, I’m going there. My boss doesn’t see anything wrong with paychecks being late every pay period.
- I have that full, slightly crampy feeling of early pregnancy/period coming. Why must my body fuck with me this way?
- Dad called me yesterday, at work, to talk about why my Bro and Sis aren’t answering his calls, and also to ask about his computer. No, I’m fine Dad, just dealing with dead babies, shitty work stuff and a seriously fucked up body, but you know your computer is more important. See, now he’d get all pissed and offended if he read that, but for real, I need certain people to care every now and then. Ask real questions. “How are you” is not a real question. “Are you on treatment this month” or even “How’s it going with the treatments” or even “If you want to talk about the babies or your treatments I’m here” are all better options than “how are you.”
- Took Big C to the pet store with Emma, he wanted a pet. I offered him a female beta to go into the tank with his male beta. He wanted a lizard. I told him that I wasn’t investing $50 into a $10 lizard that I would have to take care of when he wasn’t at my house (that would be 3-5 days a week most weeks) he told the sales lady that I was selfish and gave me a major attitude for the whole rest of the day. I offered the child a pet. A reasonable, affordable perfect impulse decision pet. But, I’m selfish and mean and the worst aunt he has. Seriously, that kid can be an asshole sometimes.
- At lunch today Kung Pao beef ended up ALL OVER my pink argyle Tommy Hilfiger sweater that I love. It’s heard to find plus sized brand named clothing in Podunk Ohio. I have to drive 2 hrs to get to the dept store that sells this stuff. I have kept this sweater looking decent for 5 years. Grrr… (it did come out, but now my tits are cold and wet)
- I’m fat. I eat a decent diet. I’m not a fulltime health nut (kung pao beef for lunch…) but I don’t eat Big Macs everyday (or even every week) either. I cook dinner, or go for healthier restaurant options. I exercise. Again, maybe not “a lot” but more than most. My dogs are well walked and my Wii Fit is low on batteries. But, I’m fat. I take a handful of fucking pills everyday to reduce the insulin but still, my ass (and apparently arms) are gigantic.
- My husband bitches about being fat, and says “we” need to go on a diet, but eats 3 portions at dinner and does eat fast food for lunch. He weighs 50 pounds less than I do. IT’S SO FUCKING UNFAIR.
All done. Sorry. I do actually feel a little better though. I need to quit with the never ending bitching. But I just feel so… so… so…