Please Stop Pissing Me Off, People!

I love this movie.  Better yet, I love this scene in the movie.  If you don't recall, Angela Bassett's husband decides he wants a divorce.  Instead of being a doormat allowing him to have it all, she gets pissed!  Nothing worse than a woman scorned!  So pissed that she sells his expensive crap for $1 at a yard sale and sets fire to his BMW.  I think it's natural to feel euphoric when you see something like that.  We all get pissed on at some point in our lives.  And we've all dreamed about the day that we have our retribution.  Ahhh...  My girl in the movie did it with pure class, though.

Unfortunately, I'm not here to do anything with class or style.  Nope.  I'm just here to vent.  Yesterday, I whipped an old woman's ass (at least in my mind).  Today, I'm going to pull out that same can of whip ass for a younger, yet dumb as a box of rocks, protagonist.  I. AM. SICK. OF. DUMBASSES. screwing with my emotions!

This old woman yelled at me several times yesterday.  For no reason whatsoever!  Each time, she was condescending and straight up RUDE.  She treated me like I was some 14 year old idiot!!!!  Nevermind that I am nearly 44 years old with a master's degree.  But to her, I was an insignificant little twit for whom she had little regard.  While I would never, EVER get into a fight (could you just see it??), it did help me to visualize getting her ass down on the ground and bashing her head into the concrete.  I'm pretty sure I could have taken her.  At least, that is, if I weren't a respectable woman trying to be an ideal role model for our society's future.  And I would mess up my hair...

Today, I avoided the old hag and soon forgot about her pissy attitude.  I was damn-near pleasant when I got home this evening.  I hit the gym after work, got those endorphines pumping, and practically kissed my husband when I got home.  Instead, though, I fed the kids and gave them a bath.  G and I had a recital meeting at the dance studio while E and Daddy had baseball practice.

G and I got to the dance studio at 6:30 p.m. SHARP.  After all, the email I received a few days ago indicated that there would be a MANDATORY parent's meeting on Tuesday at 6:30 p.m.  Mandatory was underlined and bolded.  This gave me the distinct impression that the soiree was, well, mandatory.  Duh?!

The lights were off in the studio so I thought maybe we were a little early.  I called the studio, but only got a recorded message that they were closed.  I sent a text to the instructor, but received no reply.  I sat in the freakin' parking lot for 20 minutes waiting on the said MANDATORY (her words, not mine) meeting!!!  Apparently, the meeting had been canceled or changed.  Apparently, every other parent was notified but me.  Apparently, my daughter will be taking dance from someone else next season.

This is not the first time the woman's dropped the ball on something.  It's always one thing or another.  She's quite unorganized.  And all over the place!  She makes me nuts!  Quick example...  The girls were dancing in a local Christmas parade.  Our float was number 33.  It would pull up in front of the meeting place and the girls would fall in behind.  Simple process, right? 

Parade time comes, and we have no float.  "It's coming," she said. 

At least the kids can catch some candy while they wait.  Nearly every float, band, and go-cart in the parade passed us by.  Still no float.  Finally, the girls forgot about their dance and were all excited to see Santa at the END of the freakin' parade.  I'm pissed.  I just spent close to $100 for my daughter to be in this freakin' parade!  Can you say bitch better have my money!?!

Oh, the float was in the parade alright.  It was dead last, behind Santa.  It seems that the float got caught in parade traffic because it didn't make it to the meeting place on time!  Why?  Oh, because the float wasn't complete in time for the parade.  I've got more of these episodes, but I don't everybody to be pissed off tonight.

See what I mean?  Messing with my emotions.  Where's my Vodka??