I. Am. Angry.
I. Want. To. Cuss. A lot! I don't want to make coherent sentences that express salient thoughts. I just want to blurt out vulgar obscenities until I feel better (Remember in Eddie Murphy's Raw how he talked about having a cuss show? Like that!). I want to scream at the top of my lungs until I have no voice left, and when my vocal cords are raw, I want to get a can of spray paint and write out more vulgar obscenities on the side of a prominent building. When I'm out of paint, I want to take a key and drag it down the side of some stranger's expensive car and then hide in the bushes and laugh when he/she comes out and discovers that his shiny new toy is now crap!
What's wrong with me?
A lot...
I am a 36 year old who suffers from arthritis. I'm over-weight and under-appreciated (most of the time). I grin and bear it when things don't go my way instead of hurling dishes and torturing my assailants. I vent to my friends about those who've wronged me instead of getting in the faces of said persons who've wronged me. I dream more than I act. I plan more than I execute. And I plot less than I write. I make lists just to ignore them. I complain about skinny people instead of actively trying to become one. I have hobbit hands (well, more like short and stubby fingers) and a gap between my two front teeth that two years of braces couldn't fix. I harbor a deep-seated intolerance for stupidity at all levels of life. I get tired of being told that I "look like this girl I used to know..."! Hey, I'm not her. Get over it! I am my own worst critic. I constantly underestimate myself.
But a lot of those things are also what's right with me. And, for now, that's going to keep me from carrying out any of the foolishness found in paragraph one. Thanks for letting me vent. I feel better...slightly.
I. Want. To. Cuss. A lot! I don't want to make coherent sentences that express salient thoughts. I just want to blurt out vulgar obscenities until I feel better (Remember in Eddie Murphy's Raw how he talked about having a cuss show? Like that!). I want to scream at the top of my lungs until I have no voice left, and when my vocal cords are raw, I want to get a can of spray paint and write out more vulgar obscenities on the side of a prominent building. When I'm out of paint, I want to take a key and drag it down the side of some stranger's expensive car and then hide in the bushes and laugh when he/she comes out and discovers that his shiny new toy is now crap!
What's wrong with me?
A lot...
I am a 36 year old who suffers from arthritis. I'm over-weight and under-appreciated (most of the time). I grin and bear it when things don't go my way instead of hurling dishes and torturing my assailants. I vent to my friends about those who've wronged me instead of getting in the faces of said persons who've wronged me. I dream more than I act. I plan more than I execute. And I plot less than I write. I make lists just to ignore them. I complain about skinny people instead of actively trying to become one. I have hobbit hands (well, more like short and stubby fingers) and a gap between my two front teeth that two years of braces couldn't fix. I harbor a deep-seated intolerance for stupidity at all levels of life. I get tired of being told that I "look like this girl I used to know..."! Hey, I'm not her. Get over it! I am my own worst critic. I constantly underestimate myself.
But a lot of those things are also what's right with me. And, for now, that's going to keep me from carrying out any of the foolishness found in paragraph one. Thanks for letting me vent. I feel better...slightly.
