I want to bite people....

I fucking hate Mondays sometimes.
Only sometimes.
Days like today for instance.


I want to bite someone...

My weekend was spectacular. I had A LOT of romantic time with Mr.Man. I felt very loved and adored and worshiped.
It was incredible....
I felt kind of shitty all weekend too. Dizzy and I couldn't focus. But Mr.Man babied me and took good care of me.


"A hot steamy bath always makes me feel better."

And then this morning came.
And the freakin kids fought...and bitched and moaned and acted like someone was poking their eyes out with hot irons.
You'd think that school was a torture chamber the way they carried on about it.


"Little Beatle's health class."

By the time I dropped their sorry asses off to school, I was in a foul mood.
I wanted to smash the old wolf wagon into other cars.
I visualized myself running over mailboxes...
It wasn't pretty...


"I hope I'm not still dragging that kid with the Hello Kitty book bag behind the car. I hate Hello Kitty..."

So when I got home this morning I went into the kitchen to get some coffee and the underwire in my favorite bra came springing out and poked me in the side of the titty.
That PISSED me off even more so I took my bra off and flung it behind me. It hit my favorite coffee mug and sent it flying. Smash! No more Red Sox World Series mug.
Dammnit!


"I seriously need some vodka...NOW!"

I went ballistic!
I jumped straight up and down, cussing and balling my fist and ripping my clothes.
By the time I was done throwing my fit, I had no shirt on, my hair was standing straight up on my head, the cats had learned a few new swear words and the dog was hiding underneath Little Beatle's coat...(which he apparently had left on the floor.)


"After throwing a tantrum and giving in to the male testosterone "I want to fuck all the time" hormones, the Blonde Goddess' looks changed dramatically."

So I made toast.
In my kitchen.
With no shirt or bra on.
My hair sticking straight up.
I felt pretty.
I didn't burn myself, which was fortunate for me and the still intact windows in the kitchen. Instead I dropped the strawberry cream cheese covered toast I had prepared myself onto my chest.
I stared at it.
I felt myself getting ready to throw another fit.
So I took a deep breath and did what anyone would do in a situation like that. I licked the cream cheese off my chest (because of my freakishly long tongue I can do that)
What should happen EXACTLY at the moment I am licking the cream cheese off my chest?
The trash guys pull up out back to pick up the trash.
They look in the back window of my house just in time to see me standing in my kitchen, topless, licking cream cheese off my chest.


"Yummy! Taste better than on the toast!"

Yep.

Bet the next time I call them to haul something away they're over here in no time flat.


"We have a trash pick up at the Blonde Goddess' house today!"

Anyway...THAT is how I began my day.
I'm not in such a bad mood anymore because honestly, the pissy bad moods usually get me in trouble. The kind of trouble that I got into today...and really...how can I stay mad when something like that happens to me?

I am planning on having an uneventful day from here out.
I'll be back tomorrow...unless I bite the wrong person today.


"Tastes like chicken."

Wish me luck...