There’s no pill for me,
the allergy to bitches,
must go on – lifelong.
There’s no pill for me,
the allergy to bitches,
must go on – lifelong.
My tolerance for rude and annoying bitches is dwindling by the moment, I swear to the Gods…
Yes, I was once a grade school mini-van mom, too – however, I can safely say that I wasn’t the kind that stands outside the bedroom window of a perfect stranger’s home at 7:30am along with the mothers belonging to my child’s friends, bellowing cookie recipes or whatever at the top of my lungs.
THIS is a perfect example of the way human beings tend to give two shits outside of their own bullshit, individual existences…bitch, if you don’t find you and your coffee-cake click somewhere new to stand around and act like a bunch of field cows on the graze, I will find one for you.
The worst part about my struggles with my fellow species is the part that defines the oblivion and cluelessness attached to the ongoing behaviors of those who act like they live on Earth alone; it is enraging at times for someone like me: a remeberer, an empath, a red-blood.
It’s been a long, long stream of consecutive sunrises, that I have been awakened by the lack of consideration put forth by this particular group of rude women outside my window; I have swallowed down my own issues over the fact that I suffer from somewhat debilitating night terrors and CPTSD that typically cause me to struggle with the aspect of waking up each day, as it is. Mornings are unfailingly ugly for me anyway; 9 times out of 10 I wake up in a panic – cold sweat jello covering my body – afraid beyond words or reason – confused – angry and irritable…so, when I am awakened by a gaggle of Chicken Ladies and the associated noise, it’s fucking ugly. Fucking ugly.
Last Friday, I threw a little fit upon being woken again by the auditory pollution – and rolled over, still half asleep, to slam my window closed as hard and loud as possible…to make a point that the average brain damaged crackhead would be able to accurately read. Today, they were out there again – cackling and hollering and speaking in Elementary School Tongues, once again right outside my window. I am not a very patient person; okay, okay – fine – I harbor ZERO patience in my genetic makeup…
And so, as you might imagine…this morning turned out to be quite the action-packed content for the next Home-Maker Mommy Huddle – which I assure will be anywhere other than within the vicinity of my bedroom window, or my home for that matter, ever again.
Phillip's latest reveries
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