That’s right, they’re for me. Not for the customer in line behind me with all the cucumbers, not for friends, not for my dog. for ME. Oh, and the one I’m eating right now, yeah, I would like to pay for that one too. Making my grand total 7 chocolate-y-bars-of-goodness. Or do you have a problem with that, Fuckin-Frau-Cashier?
How do I get here? Every-freaking-time I think I have control over my life I have one of those days, where, for ab-so-fucking-lutely no reason, I feel a mixture of burning rage and undeniable cravings for chocolate. Right now I’m eating soup COLD out of the can on my bed because–if I actually had to be social right now–I’d probably have to hire a lawyer to deal with the repercussions of my inexplicable-pre-teen-esque-inner-turmoil. All socialization goes out the window when I feel like this.
I just had a stand-off-battle with an ACCELERATING CAR from the middle of the street because I think that I have the pedestrian rights of Massachusetts in the middle of Germany. “OH REALLY BITCH? You wanna accelerate while I’m still in the middle of the road. You could just keep it steady till at least I’m back on the side walk–I don’t care if you’re 200 yards away. I’ma stand here–that’s right, hold my ground so you gotta hit the break like you shoulda done in the first damn place. Then I’m gonna stare right into your eyes–memorize your fucking face–and make sure to threaten YOUR life any time you cross the bicycle path. I’m just gonna do my damn best to run over you with my two wheels. You can see how it feels then, FOOL!” (I wish I was lying or exaggerating. I just stood in the middle of the street, loudly threatening an on-coming/accelerating Audi in English… on no level does this make sense. I wasn’t even in the right in this situation. I just wanted to be angry)
You’re probably thinking, “Golly-gee BKflamebroiled, what possibly could have made you THIS angry? Aren’t you normally very rational and level headed?”
1. If you actually had that thought, you don’t read my posts.
2. Nothing has happened. It was just one of those days. You know, when, somehow, the problems that are normally incredibly surmountable become unbearable burdens on your life?? For me, things didn’t go as planned in the train station (I won’t bore you with the details because it was incredibly mundane). Then I needed a chocolate bar… immediately. Then I walked to the grocery store–and they didn’t have the tupper-ware I wanted (because it’s not America where everything you ever wanted from lawnmowers, to lingerie, to leeks are all in one giant Wal-Mart conglomerate-thing)–so naturally I bought SEVEN of the giant candy bars (not the normal sized ones, the big thick squares chocolate that are 5″x5″) just because “they were on sale.”
And I walked back, eating one candy bar after another–not even enjoying them, but eating them out of spite. As if somehow the rebellion of eating a candy bar would make me feel better. “yeah, 56 year old mother of two. I’m taking another bite. And yeah, I’ve got 4 more wrappers sticking out of my pocket. You want a bite or something? Is THAT why you’re staring? Well I don’t care…all of these are for ME. Keep looking and I might even litter or somehting.” Now, I’m sitting on my bed, unhappy, because I decided to make myself unhappy. And because my stomach is so full it hurts. IT HURTS. Why do I do this to myself? And what is the cause?
don’t be angry, beBOMB
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veryFULL (this is my new pen name because BKflamebroiled is making me feel sick)