My kid came into the bedroom at ten thirty last night screaming, crying and with a face that resembled a bruised tomato. (He's a ginger and had a fever, what do you want?) Then he proceeded to puke for two solid minutes, at least he made it to the toilet. I had to be a good mom and hold his hair, so I was holding back the puke reflex myself. Fact: No one vomits alone when I'm around. SO GROSS. Anyway, after he calmed down he proceeded to tell me about his feverish nightmare. He said that he came home and asked me who won the Presidential election and that I said it was Mitt Romney. Though we do not discuss politics with him at ten years of age, this was apparently horrifying enough for him to wake up hysterical. So, that was sort of funny. What's not funny is that he's sick and I had to miss work today.
Did I mention that Wifey is in NYC without me? While I won't expound on my apparent co-dependant relationship and the effect that this fact is having on my emotional well being, rest assured that despite the constant text messages and conversations, the distance is messing with me. Throw that into the mix of being quarantined with Fever Boy and toss in the fact that I've had two huge cups of strong coffee and a giant Red Bull in an attempt to be productive and clean my dresser drawers. The result? I'm about to say too much again. Cause when I'm crazy and over-caffeinated, I give even less of a shit than usual. Let me get some things off of my chest. So without further ado, I bring to you my list of grievances, in no particular order.
1. I'm sick and tired of Women Weight Wars. Listen, if I were to go online and scoff at heavier women, I'd be a right asshole. Why is it, then, that there seems to be a surge of women who feel totally within their right to openly degrade, insult and make fun of thin women… right to their fucking face? I'm sick of it. If I say that I'm trying to eat clean, don't make fun of me and say I'm going to disappear and that no one likes a protruding ribcage. First of all, being fit isn't the same as being anorexic. Second, it's not my fault I don't have tits. My ribcage is always going to stick out. Don't be a dick about it. Also, please stop posting memes about how 'real men like curvy women.' I'm quite sure that's true in many instances, men like big boobs and a stacked ass. I happen to have neither, thanks for the reminder. But do the world a favor and stop lumping yourself in with Marilyn Monroe and Betty Page if you're just overweight. There's a difference there, too.
Just stop it.
2. I don't put myself out there often. I'm socially awkward, thus I don't seek out lots of new relationships/friendships. If I've ever made a modicum of an effort with you, then you're probably genuinely a person that I'd like to spend some of my rare free time with. If I've gone so far to ask you to specifically hang out with me and you've blown me off, don't ever expect me to ask you again. Much as I may think I could like someone, I will never chase them. I just won't, I'll shut down and assume that you probably can't deal with hanging with me. I'm judgmental, have incredibly high standards and will probably insist on some sort of intelligent conversation thrown into the fun. I'm not a dumb ass who is only interested in getting shit faced five nights a week. There's a time and place for everything. But I digress in my random rant. As a textbook introvert, it takes incredible gumption for me to pull my nose out of my book and put myself out there for someone I find drawn to. Don't expect me to repeat it incessantly. The ball will now forever be in your court. I assure you that you've missed the boat on me making it easy and reaching out, know that I'm completely content with never doing it again. That's the beauty of being 94% self sufficient. I only need my animals and a select few. So there.
3. This whole PMA (positive mental attitude) movement makes me want to hurl. Good for you and your 'glass half full' bullshit. Do what legitimately works for you, but don't get all superior about it. If you really naturally had that mindset, you wouldn't have to fucking tattoo it on your body to remind yourself how to react to things. Know what works for me? Some people call it negativity, but that's not true. I call it a realistic world view. No, you CAN'T be anything you want to be if you just work hard enough. I hate it when people tell kids this and I detest it even more when adults delude themselves with the same crap. Good thing I didn't want to be a WNBA player and have parents that fed me that shit. I'd have surely put a bullet in my head when I stopped growing at five foot two inches. I could go on and on with this crap, but I'll just end with this. Take your PMA crap and your inspirational quotes and shove them where the sun don't shine. This cantankerous broad doesn't want to hear it 24/7.
There you go. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I've got a closet to clean.
Did I mention that Wifey is in NYC without me? While I won't expound on my apparent co-dependant relationship and the effect that this fact is having on my emotional well being, rest assured that despite the constant text messages and conversations, the distance is messing with me. Throw that into the mix of being quarantined with Fever Boy and toss in the fact that I've had two huge cups of strong coffee and a giant Red Bull in an attempt to be productive and clean my dresser drawers. The result? I'm about to say too much again. Cause when I'm crazy and over-caffeinated, I give even less of a shit than usual. Let me get some things off of my chest. So without further ado, I bring to you my list of grievances, in no particular order.
1. I'm sick and tired of Women Weight Wars. Listen, if I were to go online and scoff at heavier women, I'd be a right asshole. Why is it, then, that there seems to be a surge of women who feel totally within their right to openly degrade, insult and make fun of thin women… right to their fucking face? I'm sick of it. If I say that I'm trying to eat clean, don't make fun of me and say I'm going to disappear and that no one likes a protruding ribcage. First of all, being fit isn't the same as being anorexic. Second, it's not my fault I don't have tits. My ribcage is always going to stick out. Don't be a dick about it. Also, please stop posting memes about how 'real men like curvy women.' I'm quite sure that's true in many instances, men like big boobs and a stacked ass. I happen to have neither, thanks for the reminder. But do the world a favor and stop lumping yourself in with Marilyn Monroe and Betty Page if you're just overweight. There's a difference there, too.
Just stop it.
2. I don't put myself out there often. I'm socially awkward, thus I don't seek out lots of new relationships/friendships. If I've ever made a modicum of an effort with you, then you're probably genuinely a person that I'd like to spend some of my rare free time with. If I've gone so far to ask you to specifically hang out with me and you've blown me off, don't ever expect me to ask you again. Much as I may think I could like someone, I will never chase them. I just won't, I'll shut down and assume that you probably can't deal with hanging with me. I'm judgmental, have incredibly high standards and will probably insist on some sort of intelligent conversation thrown into the fun. I'm not a dumb ass who is only interested in getting shit faced five nights a week. There's a time and place for everything. But I digress in my random rant. As a textbook introvert, it takes incredible gumption for me to pull my nose out of my book and put myself out there for someone I find drawn to. Don't expect me to repeat it incessantly. The ball will now forever be in your court. I assure you that you've missed the boat on me making it easy and reaching out, know that I'm completely content with never doing it again. That's the beauty of being 94% self sufficient. I only need my animals and a select few. So there.
3. This whole PMA (positive mental attitude) movement makes me want to hurl. Good for you and your 'glass half full' bullshit. Do what legitimately works for you, but don't get all superior about it. If you really naturally had that mindset, you wouldn't have to fucking tattoo it on your body to remind yourself how to react to things. Know what works for me? Some people call it negativity, but that's not true. I call it a realistic world view. No, you CAN'T be anything you want to be if you just work hard enough. I hate it when people tell kids this and I detest it even more when adults delude themselves with the same crap. Good thing I didn't want to be a WNBA player and have parents that fed me that shit. I'd have surely put a bullet in my head when I stopped growing at five foot two inches. I could go on and on with this crap, but I'll just end with this. Take your PMA crap and your inspirational quotes and shove them where the sun don't shine. This cantankerous broad doesn't want to hear it 24/7.
There you go. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I've got a closet to clean.
I'm in love...
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