This blog is by an easily irritated and provoked person. The messages and thoughts on this blog do not reflect the views of the blogger when she is in a calm, rational state. And no, it is not "that time of the month," you sexist pig.


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Monday, August 20, 2007
Oh, where do I even begin? I ought to begin at the beginning, I suppose.

To the first woman to piss me off at the supermarket:
Don't you dare shake your head at me! If I weren't on a mission to find parking, you and I would have had words and possibly fisticuffs. That's right! Fisticuffs! Sure, it would be okay for you to shake your head at me had I been in the wrong, but I think we all know that I was not. You violated one of the major rules of parking lot etiquette. If you miss the empty space, you do not get to back up, especially when there is a line of cars going into the street trying to get into the lot. But did you move on? No! You backed up and almost hit my car although I signaled to you that there was no way I could back up. And then you dare to glare at me? You dare to shake your head as if to scold me? I would have gone medieval on your ass if I hadn't decided that getting a parking space took priority over justice. You are so lucky. You don't even know how lucky you are.

To the second woman to piss me off at the supermarket:
There is no need to push me with your cart. I mean, I know you're old but it's not like you're completely devoid of sensation and can't tell when your shopping cart hits a soft, fleshy mass. Repeatedly. Just because you're just as pissed off as me (as you clearly were) does not mean that's it's okay to take it out on me. And repeatedly assaulting me with your cart is not going to make the line go any faster. And you know what pisses me off even more? That the mere fact that you are old and that you had oxygen tubes coming out of your nose makes it wrong for me to be pissed at you! That really pisses me off when I'm not allowed to be pissed off.

To the third woman to piss me off at the supermarket:
Hello, hippie lady. While you go through life with a carefree, laid-back attitude, I do not. I am full of rage. RAGE! In response to your statement, "You don't mind if I cut in front of you," I actually DO mind if you cut in front of me. I don't care if you only have one item to buy. Do you think I normally stand in line at a cash register for 20 minutes, waiting my turn, only to let any random person cut in front of me just because they have fewer items? Hint: NO. Stand in line like everybody else! And by the way, lose the hemp skirt...it's not very flattering.

I hate the supermarket sometimes.

I thought maybe you were at a 99 Ranch Market or its equivalent but the hippie lady example screwed with *that* idea.
I'm surprised that there hasn't been much cause for fury given what you deal with everyday. Or is it that you are just too tired to raist your fist and rage against the machine?
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