|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|I hate myself some days. Like today for instance. The PMS faerie came a-calling, so now, every thought is about how I have offended somebody, or how I am a rotten person, or how fat my ass is. You know. It IS all about me - so fcuk YOU! Mwaaahaaaaahaaaaahaaa!
I was short with one of my sponsees. I mean, come on. She calls me at 8:15 p.m. to tell me that she is very angry with her apartment manager, because her new refrigerator is sitting outside her apartment, and her old refrigerator has been cleaned out for two hours, and the manager hasn't been over to change them around yet. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??? I tried using the old AA slogan "Expectations are just rehearsed resenments" And, she got pissy with ME! I ended up telling her to march her ass down to the manager, and tell him she needed to go to bed in half an hour, so he'd better come right now, or the new refrigerator was sure to be stolen in the night. It was mostly a ploy to get her off my phone. I feel a little bad about that. Just a little. See, I love this woman, but she calls me up sometimes 5 times a day - and talks sometimes for an hour without taking a break. Once, I said "hello" - and put the receiver on my chest, and laid in bed listening to the sound of her voice while I watched television for a half an hour. She never even knew I wasn't listening. This is true! Some days, I just can't do it......
Oh well. I checked the calendar, and I shouldn't be this rabid for long. I hate it though. I hate driving because I notice other peoples' poor driving, and the sound of other's voices is irritating, and I don't have any patience, and I feel FAT.
Menopause.... Take me away!!!
On a completely different note, the other day, my left breast was really hurting. Not the typical homonal ache, but in a different spot, and in a different manner. I awoke in the dark of night, as I do from time to time - convinced that I must have a malignant tumour growing in there. After all, I am getting older, and becoming more of an age when these things occur. I was sad to be dying, of course. I pictured having the surgery. Going through the chemo. Hair, falling out, looking pale. Going to those Welln*ss Community meetings...
Then, I remembered I had washed my hair in the kitchen sink that morning, and had pinched my boob between me and the counter while rinsing...
"Life Not Worth Living If You Not Take Risk" Brian, QAF
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|