Who cares that I’m late…
Who cares that this blog is straight filler…no substance?
I don’t. I’ll be glad when it’s over.
I’ve talked about love, life, tits, movies, domestic violence, friends, food…etc. I’m spent. Or maybe what it is, is that what I really have on my mind I’m too concerned that viewing eyes will see it and see themselves. I never was good at that…not caring whose feelings I hurt.
Alas, I blog of nothingness when I’m irritated up my ass at folks. I guess I’m still rolling hardcore with Oscar. He likes me. He understands me right now. I want to say BLECH, to everything.
Oh, totally off topic…why in the FOREIGN FUCK, did some Latino dude get nasty with me at the job today? I’m standing there, waiting for a cab…he’s blowing leaves and actually yells at me (not just because it was loud…but because he was frustrated) and says bitch-style, “EXCUSE ME!!!!” I say “bitch-style”, because he said it like a true diva bitch would. Hand on his skinny hip and all. I said, “Where do you want me to go?”. It was a legitimate question. This fucka huffed and said, “EXCUSE ME!!!” And waved his frail arm in the opposite direction. I wanted to take his antiquated leaf blower on wheels and run his ass over and then blow him down the street. JACKASS! He probably was mad because him widdle friend had a super lightweight backpack blower that did the job he was doing twice as fast. No wonder the other dude was nicer…his back and arms weren’t numb from pulling a 70lb blower around.
Who cares about his stupid landscaping job? I didn’t. Not today!
Anyway…I’m tired. I’m about to lie down and pray that Oscar breaks up with me really soon. His crib is beginning to smell like old onions and fish ass…
Actually, Oscar’s girl’s name is Grungetta. LOL. I am kinda her (without the unibrow). I’ve been SO cranky and moody lately. NO…I’m not on nor am I expecting or over a period. Women ARE allowed to have moods that have shit to do with their womanly hormones. (see how snappy I am?)
I think I’m just going through a time where my patience wick is so very short and so easily sparked. The slightest infraction can send me into O_O mode. I’ve given at least three to four people that look today at work. I WANTED to say STFU…but that is highly inappropriate. To say that I was racing against time to get home is an understatement.
I remember being the kind of adolescent and young woman who adored physical company. I still do…except for lately, I adore it sporadically and briefly. Take my Joy. I love visiting my girl. I told her today that after being there for a bit…I’m ready for my own bed and space. The moment I get home? I miss my friend and want to return. I wonder if it’s a programmed sense of understanding that the weekend ends and that Sunday is dedicated to rest and preparation for the coming week. I guess it’s easier to just prep your mind for home rather than put off what has to be done.
I just feel irritable. My tolerance is getting lower and lower for people who don’t know how to be up front. I can’t deal with adults who play emotional games. I also hate when I say someone is cool and they prove me wrong…not to ME, but to whom I said they were cool to. I gotta learn to quit vouching for fools. I am also a woman who respects boundaries. I hate when people enter into my space, whether spiritual or physical and don’t regard the lines I’ve drawn. Back off man! I guess it comes down to the fact that I need some alone time. I put myself in time outs when I get like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings…and I don’t want to get mine hurt either. Oh, yea…you thought when you snap and become curt with people that folks just let you? Some, yes…but most know how to fight back. Especially, if I love them…all I want to do is maintain the friendship and take my little mini-siesta. Some people take that personally and think it’s about them…others know that I’ll return to my loving self. I’m so grateful I have the kind of crew that is more like the latter.
I’m sure it’s just a “moment” and that I’ll be okay soon. It’s nothing deep. When you’re as receptive to people and their stuff as I can be…it’s only natural that I get overloaded and need to download and decompress.
Well, let me go back into my can. I’ll morph back into Kween ANY moment now.