Irritable Isabel.
Fuck off Frannie.
I could easily change my name this week, considering the Ms. Crabby Pants Extraordinaire begging to be let loose upon the masses.
I sit at my desk with my ears plugged, filling my brain with all the soothing music I can muster off my playlist, knowing that if I take these little buds out of my ears, every last noise is going to grate on my nerves like a paper shredder. I know there's a name for people who can not stand noise, but I don't know if I can label myself with this really-long-word-I-don't-remember, or if I should just suck it up sweetheart and call it like it is.
I'm in uber-bitch mode.
EVERYTHING irritates me right now.
I'm irritated with myself for being so irritated at everything.
The fucking weather fucking sucks. One pissant snow storm brought that particular crabby pants attitude out in me. Maybe because the plowing from my house to work is done by a blind man. I don't know who this blind man is, or I would probably be standing out on the highway, shoveling snow into a truck bed so I can go dump it in his yard. Eight miles of snow shoveling, and I could maybe get that bitchiness out of my system and get over the fact that we now hire blind people to be snowplow drivers. Every other road I see is plowed nicely, and maybe it's not perfect, but there's at least 50% of the road showing so you actually know where the fucking lanes are. But noooo...not the road to work. I had the day off after the snowpocalypse, so my rage took an extra day to set in. With that extra day, you would think there was extra snowplowing going on, but apparently, blind man had Monday off as well. By Tuesday, when other roads were improving, ours was still nearly 100% covered, but because it had been a couple days since the snowfall, it had progressed into packed down snow-shit that was slick as a sheet of ice. Wednesday, very minute tracks started to appear, so there was at least a hint of which lane I was driving in. However, by Wednesday evening, it was recovered after a day of wind and drifting, so much so that it hit the undercarriage of a car if you sat low enough to the ground in whatever you were driving. Thinking the blind man MUST be aware of this, I expected a somewhat easier drive Thursday morning, only to be proven wrong AGAIN, with the same messes I had driven through the night before. By this time, I was in full on weather rage mode, and to add to it, the one snowplow I DID see was busy plowing the ditch. Yeah, blind dumbfucker, that's great...remove the snow from the ditch so I have nothing soft to land in if I go sailing off the side of the road because I can't tell where my lane is. Thanks, Obama.
The temps took a nosedive today, which piled on the ragey, bitchy feeling brewing in my brain for oh-so-many reasons. The heat lamp which sits in our well did not get checked over the weekend, and considering the lifespan of the bulbs, I was fairly confident the light was OUT. With falling temperatures coming, I knew that meant I should leave our water dripping in order to avoid frozen pipes. However, water no longer just drips, it dribbles, because the aerator has been taken off the faucet for a repair, and a new one has not been put back on. So, irritation not only began simmering over the annoyingly incessant sound of dribbling, but also of the reminder that a new aerator has still not been put on. And it can't be just the heat lamp needing routine maintenance...oh HELL NO, not on bitchy McCrabbypants days. Now I'm well aware that the water softener needs a new filter because I have a lovely rust stain forming in my kitchen sink where the water has been dribbling. Which means intensive scrubbing. That I'm too crabby to want to do. And is just another lovely reminder that I live in hicksville where the water quality is questionable, at best.
Cold temperatures also mean no car washes. Unless, of course, I would like my doors to freeze shut while it sits outside. But with snowpocalypse, blind snowplow driver, and a city unable to clear anything within three feet of a curb, my truck looks like it has been painted in a grey, white, and poop tye dye. Which gets on your pant legs and shoes every time you get in or out of the vehicle unless you are extra cautious. And of course, I'm NOT cautious, because I'm too busy thinking negative thoughts every time I even look at my vehicle.
What you DON'T see in the picture, is the giant hump of snow I hurdled to get in this parking spot, because some asshat pushed snow into the spot, creating a two foot drift.
I've been especially ragey over the other drivers on the roads. There have been the typical good ol' boys who come rip tearing up on my back bumper, as I try to navigate my two wheel drive truck through the unplowed/shitplowed roads. I'd flip them off, but they wouldn't see my finger sticking up through the filth covered back window anyway. They, in their four wheel drive, have no problems sailing across the snow wasteland, but in my little filth-machine, I can't quite do the speed limit, and occasionally have to let off the gas when the truck begins to slide. Would they prefer I slide into the freshly plowed ditch so they can get past me to whatever very important coffee date they seem to have? Perhaps I will write "Feeling Uber-Bitchy" in the filth in my back window, so they can be forewarned of exactly how I'm feeling about them riding my ass. It's not like I'm going grandma-speed...only five to ten under the limit at most, but that doesn't stop them from riding my ass like a dog in heat. These will be the same dumb hicks who will slow down to a crawl in the spring so they can do their field-viewing, but come winter time, when there are no crops to gawk at, they are in an all out hurry.
Add in seeing nearly every driver with a phone plastered to their ear, and it's a damn miracle I haven't just rammed my vehicle straight into them in a pissy fit of rage. I am PERPLEXED as to how people drive while gabbing incessantly on the phone. And everyone seems to do it. Am I the only person that finds chit chatting on the phone to be distracting while driving?
And this week is the week of looking at absolute SHIT that people seem to think is worth money, but shouldn't even be sent to charity, unless of course, you're wanting to make a statement of thinking that charity equals POOP. People are WAY too chatty, and not in that chatty, I really enjoy my job type of way. Chatty as in endless rambling just for the sake of hearing their own voice. Chatty BLATHER, that doesn't even make sense, including very personal details of their life, even though I don't even know their name. Occasionally, they will ask ME a question, but then continue blathering on, not even waiting for an answer. You get enough days of THAT, and you start feeling invisible. But a ragey invisible. The kind of invisible that makes your hand just ITCH to reach out and bitch slap them to see if maybe THAT will make them shut up for just ONE second. But no, the Crabbypants has not escalated to those extremes, and with only one more day of work in the week, I think I can survive without an assault charge ending up on my record.
Maybe.
So on the drive home, knowing that I was feeling full-blown bitch mode arriving, I told myself to do whatever it takes to get this the fuck out of my system. Obviously, that meant blogging the shit, puke, and crud out of my system. It means plugging headphones into my ears (and I JAMMED those suckers in so hard it hurt) and blasting the most soothing music I could find. It means typing until my fingers hurt, because I absolutely LOATHE feeling like a crotchety old hag. It meant talking to Charlie, and letting those big eyes tell me that yes, it's ok. Get it out of your system now, and move the fuck on, you stupid, silly, bitchy girl.
Tomorrow is a new day. Sure, I told myself that yesterday when Ms. Crabbypants was at only 75%, but now that I've hit 100%, it can only subside from here. I will force the sunshine and rainbows, sing it out of my system, and dedicate the day tomorrow to silly play. I will take a moment in the store room, and slap the shit out of myself if need be.
Because I find myself quite irritating to be around right now.
