Days Like This

I try to not let it go this far, but yesterday I caught myself cursing (to myself, in my car-I am a total coward remember) at a child crossing the street on a bike. "Damn kids with their....BIKES! Jesus, get across the street already!" Mind you I was at a stop light and it wasn't even my turn to go.

And today at the book store I saw an exasperated mom at the cashier try to put her wallet into her purse and answer her childrens' questions while simultaneously getting keys and negotiating her purchase. Husband, by the way, had his sunglasses on and was by the door waiting like, "damn, what is taking so long already." I was so profoundly pissed and bummed for her. On the way home I listened to Elton John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues" and got a li'l weepy. Then I remembered I bought cupcake stuff and it all went away. Maybe Madonna's "Holiday" has magical powers?

Emotional overload. Hormonal imbalance. Whatever you call it, I wish I could bottle the feelings fury and use it when my first response should be anger but is instead fear or "I'm gonna cry right now." The sadness I could just toss though. Self-pity always seems like such a wasteful way to spend time. I'm off to get some coffee and a sandwich and maybe finish my book.

Happy Labor Day weekend to all those folks who get Monday off. Start early, wouldya? If you want to see me in "real life," I'll probably be at the Red Room tonight. Maybe. Most likely. Let's just say there's a one in four chance I'll be there.