I’m in pain again and bitchy. Like, really bitchy, but not super bitchy because after all, I’m a frickin sweetheart. But boy, I’m angervated by so many things today, like faces. People’s faces are pissing me off, and their voices, and their breathing. I shouldn’t have left the house. I should have chosen somewhere OTHER than Walmart to get what I needed to get. I SHOULD have stayed in bed where it is quiet and I don’t have to see people and their faces.

I have a pinched nerve in my back and I’m walking like Quasimodo, trying not to look like I’m in pain, trying to act like I am not ready to throat punch or stab everyone within punching or stabbing distance. I should have worn my tiara, might have made me feel better.

I didn’t even find what I was looking for at that infernal freak show of a store. Well, to be truthful, I forgot what I seemed to be in such desperate need of that I left the sanctuary of my home to find. I did get hit by two carts, almost plowed down a three year old who was let loose to run and rampage like a miniature drunken troll on speed through the pharmacy aisles, and I knocked over a display of Old Spice deodorant, it was that or hit the old man who came to a dead stop in front of me to adjust his trousers.

At least I had a chauffeur, an eighteen year old I’m proud to say I created and is as obnoxious as I am and kept making me laugh, which is quite painful to do right now, but I was glad for it. If he wasn’t there I really might have gone a little postal in the electronics department.

I was hobbling around looking at the barely there book section when a couple of assbutt teenagers decided to see how high the volume could go on the display stereo. I about jumped outta my skin when that sound sucker-punched me in the head. Sometimes when I’m startled I say whatever comes to mind, this time it was “Son-of-a-stupid-bitch-hole.” The lady next to me gave ME a dirty look and the jackhole teenagers started laughing.

I was accosted shortly after that by the guy trying to sell cable service to everyone.

“Excuse me, are you happy with your current cable provider?”

“We’re good.”

“Right now we’re offering new customers . . .”

“We’re  good, no thanks.”

I cannot get away from him because there is a minor traffic jam being caused by some lady who stopped center aisle of my escape route to read the back of a movie cover.

“I understand. Are you currently recei . . .”

“You know what? I currently HAVE your service and unless you can cut back the ridiculous amount I’m paying or give me some free channels, we’re good.”

“If you’d like to upgrade right now I can . . .”

“Stop talking.”

Was I rude? Maybe, but my pain and aggravation was building and I wanted to pull out my mace and blast the chick blocking the aisle, I chose instead to let my cart graze her ass and pushed my way past.

I’m home now, my kids seem to recognize the danger in upsetting me and are dealing with whatever they usually come to me every five minutes for on their own. They even bought themselves pizza for dinner. 

Wow. I just remembered what I needed from Walmart. Figures . . .