Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

I am a raging woman today. I cannot believe that I made it home safely from work. I cannot believe that the people in my path made it home safely from work. I cannot believe that I did not scream at my daughters about anything the second I walked in the door, or even later. I cannot believe that from the outside, people would think that I'm a normal person.

The only ones who have met my mad, mad mood today have been my mother on the telephone and a friend in an email. My mother had to get off the phone when I was venting because her leg was hurting her. (Yes, I know that I need not to vent so much to my mother because I don't think that it's good for her health. Apparently the leg spasms, or whatever they are, are from stress. What a shock that she had one as I raged today.) And my friend was confronted with an emotional email that did not have even the slightest hint of humor--it was pure hurt and anger.

The day started when I woke up freezing at 4:45 because the air conditioner was on 64. Autumn has begun in northern Virginia; but it is still colder in here than out there. Then, at 5:20 AM (I get up at 5) slime came out of his room and started calling me names and talking into his little tape recorder friend about calling the police. Apparently my closet door slipped and banged the wall and made noise that disturbed his sleep. I don't know about you, but I don't like being called a scumbag ever, but it is especially trying before day break. He thrust his little tape machine friend at me: yes, I said, I told you to shut up, what is wrong with that you psycho.

I know, I know, I need to leave. Which leads me to vent number 2.

I emailed my lawyer the second I got into work that we need to talk, that I need to get out of here, and by the way, please send to me the letter you sent to slime last week. I have told this man repeatedly not to send anything without letting me see it first. But he keeps thinking that just because he has a degree from an Ivy League college and a law degree and has been practicing family law for years he is smarter than me. Maybe he is, but not regarding my case. He sent a letter that totally misrepresented the fact that slime cancelled our meeting a week and a half ago and made it sound that I don’t want to meet because I wouldn’t pay my lawyer’s travel expenses. AHHHHH! And he has not gotten back to me yet, and he always gets back to me quickly.

Positive thoughts, positive thoughts.

Oh, and coffee date man, who I opened up to and told about my blog—which is very important to me—said that he’ll get to it when he has some quiet time later in the week. Thanks.

Breathe breathe breathe breathe. Close your eyes. Listen to Marc Cohn sing, “True Companion.”

Sign up to campaign to register voters so this nightmare scenario of mccain and palin won’t come true.

Breathe breathe breathe. Keep listening. Look at Poops, take a hint from Poops the maltese. Relax.

Get the lawyer to be a bastard or get a bastard lawyer. 

Listen to song again. And again and again until I am back. But do I want to be back? I don’t think so. Maybe that’s the kind of positive thinking I need.

* * *