I am 100% certain that my punk-ass week is due to filling out one of those comment cards from a grocery store check-out lane. The cashier had been a completely enraged bitch who slammed shit around while ringing up customers. I narked on her in that comment card and guess what? This week I became a completely enraged bitch and slammed shit around. The only difference? I slammed shit around in my own home rather than in my work place. I slammed dishes into the dishwasher, I slammed the faucet handle off, I slammed vegetables onto the cutting board. I finally made the fucking karmic connection when the boyfriend called me at work to tell me that someone from the chain grocery store called and asked for me.
Karma is a bitch, y'all.
I went on an anger-fueled power walk in the park last night and mentally dared everyone I saw to try to fuck with me in some way. I was certain I could rip someone's esophagus out with my left hand while diddling my i-pod with the other. Somebody tried to smile at me and I just glared. "This is the future, asshole," I thought to myself.
I've tried every god-damned drug and religion on this planet in an effort to free myself from this disease and I swear on my sister's grave the only cure is death.