Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Ain't She Sweet

Yesterday something clicked inside me and I became Mean.  Just inwardly, of course.  And a little bit towards my kids and husband, naturally.  Poor things.

There’s always a point of time each month where my hormones get the best of me – and by the best of me, I mean they bring out the worst in me.  I’m sure I’m the only woman  in the world who, when there’s the perfect storm of hormones and circumstances and the grumpies that are caused by more than one cloudy day in a row, wishes that everyone would just stop being so stupid and freaking ignorant.

Today the mood was set off by cold weather, uncomfortable clothing, errands that take too long, stomach upset, and terrible service at a restaurant.  There was the conversation I overheard that went like this: Everyone at table: “My husband (insert minor infraction).  It drives me crazy.”  One person: “I’m so glad my husband doesn’t do that.” Everyone: “My husband (insert minor infraction).  It drives me crazy.”  One person: “My husband doesn’t do that either.” Everyone: “My husband (insert minor infraction).  It drives me crazy.”  One person: “Nope.  Not my husband.” Normally this kind of stuff doesn’t bother me.  People are entitled to have better behaved husbands.  I bit my tongue to keep the Mean in.  It was a good thing, because I was thinking this:  “If someone said ‘I have cancer’ would you respond with ‘I’m so glad I don’t have cancer?’  No.  You wouldn’t.  Even if your husband is perfect, no one wants to hear about it.  Sip your tea and be smug by yourself.”

That would have been Extra Mean.

Add being late for car pick-up at school, idiot drivers that pull right up on my tail so that I can’t back into a parking space, children who cry for me to do their homework, unplanned children’s sports activities, and a husband who CallsFacetimesSkypesTexts at least ten times between school and dinner time to see if he can turn on his new car from a remote location at the exact moment that everyone else is talking doing homework eating dinner looking for an athletic cup and what is this five dollars for on the desk is it yours can I have it and there are five minutes before you have to be at baseball practice YOU NEED TO HURRY UP AND EAT AND PUT YOUR CUP ON.

It was madness, and I didn’t even have time to drink any wine.

Today has been better, mostly because I have been holed up in my house all day and haven’t been around other people much.  I probably should do the same for the rest of the week and ride out this Mean.

For everyone’s safety, that is. 


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