OK, so I am tense and pissed off this evening.
It has been a long and loud and chaotic day. I am tired and annoyed and just fucking tired of children. I am just fucking tired.
Damn it.
And somehow, the day has gotten away from me. It is late, and I have written nothing, and when I sit down to type? All that comes out is that I am tense and pissed.
Fuck.
I don’t want to write about how I am tense and pissed.
And yes, I know I already wrote that part.
What am I, stupid?
You can’t actually see me, but I may have just pounded on the keyboard in frustration, which then caused Mark to stupidly say (for perhaps the 10th time), “I’m sorry.”
Which is just so fucking annoying, because he didn’t do anything for which he owes apologies. I hate when he tosses random apologies into the air. As though that will fix anything. Fuck. I am the one who is being unreasonable and childish.
What? I am so fucking scary that he feels the need to leap in with apologies? So annoying.
He’s all terrified . . . what if I suddenly bolt out of my chair and attack?
So he offers soothing words.
Sorry, rabid crazy woman . . . sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. So sorry.
Fuck. Get away from me with that obsequious shit.
And if Mark does have something for which he needs to apologize?
This is not the fucking time.
So I say, “Can you not see that I do not want to hear from you? I am in a bad mood and I do not want to hear you apologize to me for my mood. Shut up.”
He starts to speak, because he is not as smart as I dreamed my husband would be.
I interrupt him, “Shhhhh. Why are you still talking? You have nothing for which to apologize, and you are pissing me off. And if you do owe me apologies? Save your sad tales of adultery and last-cookie-eating for a moment when I am inclined to hear you.”
And then I angrily pound on the keyboard again.
If this post never makes it to you?
It’s because I have broken my keyboard.
Shut up. You’re reading this, so that didn’t happen, and I am not taking any shit from you. Like you’ve never had a bad day.
Hmmmph.
I’m out of here.
Oh man I had the same kind of day yesterday. I hope you have a better tomorrow.
Thanks, you.
Today sucked.
Sigh.
Yikes!! Hopefully all this means is that you know tomorrow will be a better day!
Hmmph.
Ruh. Roh.
Hope tomorrow’s better, my love.
Thank you, babe.
I hate when I let a day get away from me.
And I don’t just mean the slipping of the minutes.
Sigh.
Today? Let it go. Have a beer or two or maybe three, relax, go to bed and wake up to a new and hopefully more pleasant day tomorrow!
And if tomorrow sucks too? Just say fuck it and hide in bed all day!
Yup.
Letting today go.
This posting every day thing means that occasionally?
My emotions are closer to the surface as I write than I intend them to be.
I will let today go.
Thank you.
HA! you sound just like me in a bad mood. I’m a two headed banshee I’ve heard.
Snort!
You know those days that just start going badly, and you can’t get them back?
Yeah.
I’m already feeling better.
Part of my stress was not having posted.
And so even though I was reduced to posting my insanity?
I feel better for having put something up.
Thank you!
I would say I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, but I’m not up to date on my vaccines.
Go eat some chocolate or something.
Chocolate?
Not even.
And you are wise to skip the “Sorry.”
I am all chompy.
Thanks for your post. My day was similar to yours. I am now having my own personal wine party. Tomorrow will be better for both of us. :0)
Thanks, you.
A beer in a bit.
Yes, tomorrow will be better.
Can I come with you? Seriously, after a week of pneumonia, much shorter naps than usual and the terrible twos…I NEED a break. and a stiff drink.
Yes, you can come with me.
You have had a whole WEEK of hell.
I just had a single bad day.
Of course you can come with me.
sometimes a day getting away from you is just what you need. It’s like rems and temporary insanity.. you’ll be a better person for it tomorrow–or maybe the day after tomorrow–
You are all glass half-fully this evening.
Annoying.
Love you.
But annoying.
As a blogger who has tagged a blog post “having a craptastic day” and who warned people at the beginning of said post that there would be whining and ranting involved, I completely empathize. It just suckity suck sucks on some days, and I ain’t gonna apologize and tomorrow will be better.
My son Jake, the one on the autism spectrum, tends to use scripts, stock phrases he picks up (from books, TV, other people) a lot. For a while, every night at bedtime, after I had given my final kiss and said my final goodnights, as I am closing his bedroom door I would hear him call out to me: “Goodnight, Mom, tomorrow’s another day” in a lilting voice. He has since moved on, and I miss that, still get it only every now and then.
So I give this now to you: Goodnight, Kris, Tomorrow’s another day.
Sigh.
When Maj first learned to talk? One of the things I most looked forward to was hearing her tell me that she loved me.
Every night I would say, “I love you, Maj.”
And she would say nothing.
When she started talking? She was so very very Maj.
Every night, I would say, “I love you, Maj.”
And she would say, “I love me too.”
It was lovely and heartbreaking all at the same time.
A script that I didn’t correct because they were her words, and it seemed wrong somehow to be sad not to be the object of her spoken love.
Every night for many months we exchanged our statements of love for Maj.
Happy sighs at the memory.
Tears at the memory.
Thank you.
Yes, tomorrow is another day.
Kris,
I’m sorry too. We men get all scared when a woman uses a $200 word like obsequious. Or even thinks it, and has that menacing face that goes with it.
OK, your above comments are happy-tomorrow types. Here’s a different approach.
Life sucks and then you die.
Did that help?
OK, then go back to the happier comments, breath in, breath out, kick the nearest dog and or man.
This too shall pass.
Also. It’s sort of humbling that even your pissed-off shitty posts are exceptional.
Bitch.
Sorry, couldn’t resist that one.
I was being obsequious. Or not. I haven’t looked it up yet.
Bill
Bill -
A secret?
I have a hard time with happy reassurances. I almost closed comments for that very reason.
When someone tells me, “Life sucks and then you die?”
It makes me giggle.
And then that you call hostile names?
How fucked up am I that I now want to invite you out for a beer?
Love you.
Thank you.
Kris
dude, have your bad day! you’re entitled. yell fuck a lot and drink a beer.
and men don’t always get that when they get all meek and scared of our bad moods, they’re just feeding the beast. when I get like that, I need for whatever man is in my life to just steer clear, don’t even look at me, don’t even think about me. just go to your mancave and do your manthings and I will be here enjoying my pissyness.
Men don’t always get that when they get all meek and scared of our bad moods, they’re just feeding the beast.
I am going to have that embroidered on a pillow for Mark.
That is perfection.
Andygirl: I completely agree with Kris: Men don’t always get that when they get all meek and scared of our bad moods, they’re just feeding the beast is perfection. My husband DOES NOT get it at all and feeds my rage. And then I feel even madder because I yelled at him for nothing…vicious circle.
Kris: my husband needs one of those pillows too or maybe I should just tattoo that phrase across my forehead.
Tattooed across your forehead?
Hee hee!
Love that.
you two! making me blush.
Love that.
Hi Crabby woman. You have the right to have crabby days. Time to curl up in the ladycave and be a grouch. And then? Have sex with the hubby. Maybe a beer. Try to stay away from the kids, they just make the crabbies crazier. When I get really crabby it is time for a Starbucks afternoon. Two hours minnimum, a book, some knitting and a drink. Like a bar only without the booze. Enjoy the beer, the Starbucks and the Sex.
Sue –
You are full of good advice.
I am on it.
Thank you.
If I knew how to fix bad days I’d send a recipe. But I don’t. So I just sends love.
Thanks.
I managed to whip something up that seems to be helping.
Ahem.
You are so lucky. You? Can type with bath hands. Don’t. Even ask.
I have had. * ahem* Shitty past several days double shit!!
You are injured?
I assumed happy reasons for your one-handed typing at first.
Sorry for the shitty days.