Monday, February 7, 2011

Warning: heavy use of the f-word ahead.

You guys, I am seriously fucking cranky today. I even tried to talk myself out of being cranky. "But wait!" I said sternly, "you have a cute new haircut, and your new car is from the fucking future so the radio turns itself up and down as you accelerate and decelerate, and you started working on the upstairs bathroom. Chill out." All of that is true, but I'm still fucking grouchy. My hair does look cute, and my new car is baller, but I'm still one grumpy lady. In fact, I responded to my internal pep talk with, "Seriously, all that can fucking suck it, because I'm not interested."

So I've been cussing a whole lot today, mostly in my head. I have mentally cussed out my clients who apparently don't know how to read, who send me nonsense and are confused when I ask questions about it. I mentally cussed out my snow-plow guy, who does a terrible job despite being paid to not do a terrible job, because I had to shovel wet, melty slush from the bottom of the driveway when I got home so I don't get stuck in it when it freezes overnight. I cussed out my father-in-law, who isn't my favorite human being anyway, for choosing the cheapest plow service (he pays for half of ours as a Christmas present) instead of, you know, getting some references and finding out if they suck really bad (so far, the services he's picked have sucked really bad for two years in a row.) I cussed out the people we bought our house from for flat-out lying about water damage in the upstairs bathroom, making what should have been simple repainting into a much bigger project with drywall-patching and seaming and stuff (I cuss them out a lot). I cussed out my coworkers for pooping in the bathroom nearest my desk and then emptying half a fucking can of the worst-fucking-scented air freshener ever.

I heartily cussed myself out, too, because I know part of my fucking problem is that I'm PMSing. I'm a grown-ass woman who should be able to acknowledge that my hormones are contributing to me feeling irritable, and then deal with it in a healthy way (interior pep talk: like shoveling the driveway!) but instead I'm just extra grumpy that I'm even grumpy in the first place.

Here's my game plan to get ungrumpy. First, I'm going to change into some pajamas and warm socks. Then, I'm going to eat some chili and the leftover guacamole from yesterday, probably while finally catching up on this season of The Office. Then, when Andy gets home, I'm going to suggest two movie choices for tonight: either Stepbrothers or Die Hard 2 (shut up, the point is to cheer me up, not watch some stupid Oscar nominee). Then, if all else fails, I'll take a bubble bath.

Anyone else grumpy? What's your game plan look like? For the love of god, I'm looking for suggestions over here.

2 comments:

  1. Heh. I also married an Andy with a similar father, although I'm pretty sure yours is more hospitable. Mine got really pissy last Easter when nobody saved him the bacon (although he was relying on his poor lovable wife to plate it up for him since he couldn't be bothered to get out of his chair in the other room).
    Suggestions? A hot buttered rum or three and some petty revenge movies... The Office is also a good choice if pared with ice cream.

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  2. Girlfriend, I actually spent a few seconds wondering if my husband was somehow leading a secret life with a secret wife, because that bacon thing sounds just like my father-in-law too. He does a lot of yelling from his chair in the living room. Ugh.

    And The Office and some maple-walnut ice cream were a pretty effective set of tools!

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