bad day | The Qwiet Muse

4de6778004b427d07c74526fbeece0e3 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 3947a4f681c5012c023c12e289ca1b9a 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 . . .

So here it is . . . the pit. Well, I suppose it’s more of a pothole really, but it certainly feels much deeper right now. I don’t even know how I fell into it. One misstep and BLAM! I was on my behind at the bottom scratching my head and wondering how the heck I ended up in here. Looks cozy enough – There’s even a nice little pity pot for me sit upon and mull over the glorious day I’ve had thus far.

So, I am sitting here on the pity pot. It’s actually about the size of a small pool right now, care to join me? There’s plenty of room for two. Watch out though, there are little creatures below just waiting to bite you on the butt. I haven’t yet been pinched by their pearly whites, but the way this day is going I’m fairly certain it will happen soon.

Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the details of my plight. I’ll simply say I have good reason for my brooding, at least it seems like a worthy reason at the moment. Tomorrow it may appear trivial as I know something even more dreadful will overshadow today’s events.

So much for optimism hu? My glass is half full, it really is. Unfortunately, someone has replaced it with a dribble glass and positive thinking is doing nothing more than dripping off my chin and staining my shirt.

Oh, if only the sad sound of a sigh could be written. It’s said for every dark cloud looming above there is a silver lining. It looks like tin foil from here which only reminds me the house trolls will be wanting to eat tonight and I will be forced to cook which means I’ll have to claw my way up and out of this wretched little hole and put on a happy face.

I think I might just order pizza and lock myself away in my room for the night, maybe the week. I wish my house had a tower, that would be perfect for a day like this. I could run, sobbing, up the dark, winding staircase and throw myself down upon the beautiful canopy bed at the top of the tower. I know, makes no sense, but there is always a pretty little room at the towers top in the movies, isn’t there?

I doubt my prince charming would saunter in and wake me from my fitful slumber with the sweet kiss of truest love, freeing me forever of my torment and whisk me away into happily ever after though. Nope, not my Romeo. He’d probably forget all about me until he ran out of clean underwear.

I would cry it out, but then I would have a stuffy nose and a headache. I would scream, but the neighbors would think I’m nuts. I know, I know, I’m deluding myself, they all came to that conclusion long ago. I’d pull out my hair, but . . . ouch. I’d break something, but then I’d just have to clean it up and in doing so, would cut myself on a broken piece of whatever it was and bleed to death.

I guess I am doing the only thing I can do, write about nonsense and nothing until I feel better. You know what? I think it’s working. I actually do feel a bit better . . . I still wish I had a tower though. The drama of it all would be so grand.

Tonight will be one of those nights I must end with my knees on the ground and my eyes toward the heavens. He’ll know how to fix it, he always does.

Crystal R. Cook