Last night, around 5 o’clock the storm began. The rains came earlier but the torrential downpour of hormones colliding and mingling together and terrorizing my body hit all at once. I watched out the window and a tear welled up in my eye – for no good reason. I saw an image of the gulf on TV and got so furious I couldn’t sit still. Then as I began to tear up and become enraged all at the same time I knew what storm was brewing – it was my Uncle Flo, he had come to visit me.
I soon found out that no, I was not the only one. EVERYONE I encountered was being visited by their “friend” and it seemed like they were all looking for somewhere to direct it. So I stayed in bed. I watched Shutter Island (PHENOMENAL movie) then suddenly got the urge to CLEAN. Then I realized that it was my doggies day to eat organs so I journeyed out to the local Albertson’s to grab a beef heart and neck bones. The dogs LOVE them both. Good source of organ AND bone. ANYWAY, as soon as I walk into the store I’m accosted by a woman pushing fliers.
“Comming in to buy beef today?” she said, shoving one of the weekly inserts from the newspaper in my face. I don’t care if it’s something I NEED, I never feed into employees who approach me. I want to screech like a monkey at them, flailing my long arms and jumping up and down until they cower away in shame. She interrupted my train of though too which TOTALLY pissed me off, and for no real good reason. The lady was just doing her job…
I walked to the back of the store and got to the weird gross meat section, you know, where they keep the tripe and hearts and kidneys OH MY! There was a woman standing right where I needed to go, and she was unknowingly doing this dance with me where she moved in front of each spot I tried to go. I really wanted to just pick her up and set her down in her basket until I was done but I maintained my patience and waited for her to move. Well not really, I kinda just pushed my way inbetween her basket and the shelf when she held a position for a few minutes.
I finally had them, one cow heart and a pound and a half of pig vertebrae. Disgusting I know, but hey I don’t have to eat it so really what do I care? My oldest dog is 10, he’s seen me through my entire adult life. He can eat disgusting food if he wants to, he’s earned that. Not to mention raw feeding is exponentially better for your dog than over processed kibble crap. But that’s a totally different blog.
So then I’m leaving, making my way to the deli counter to grab a bite to eat before going back to my cave and burying myself in my comforter pretending I’m on an island completely separate from society. When I got to the counter no employee was anywhere to be seen. I waited… And waited… still nobody. Just as I was about to walk away the delitician came out and I asked for half a pound of chicken strips. That’s the perfect amount for me.
“Are you SURE? That’s only going to be like 2 strips man.” his face was all screwed up like he just smelled a fart.
“Yup, I’d like half a pound.” I rolled my eyes silently.
“You’re SURE? I mean that’s really not a lot, everybody thinks half a pound is a lot but it really isn’t.”
“YES,” I used my outside voice, “I have ordered them before, I do this all the time, just weigh out my damn strips.”
“OK,” he huffed and shoveled out two strips – which were WAY under when he weighed them. OH I guess somebody isn’t as much of a math wiz as they thought they were! He threw in another one and it was slightly over, then acted like he was going to dig that one out and replace it with a lighter one. I told him that was fine, I really just wanted out of there. He was covered with trashy jail tats that bled together like giant black birthmarks on his arms.
As I was checking out two of the dumbest, most annoying young “ladies” got in line behind me. First off I don’t really like girls. I mean I have a lot of friends that are girls, and I love them dearly but as a general rule I don’t really like the super girly girl types, especially when they stand in line behind you and talk about stupid stuff. These two were letting the rest of the store know about some little high school drama they had going on that I really could have given an ish about but I was tolerant, I gathered my groceries as I left the store.
The final straw was while I was leaving. There’s one particular old man that works the front that ALWAYS tries to show me how to use the simple touchscreen self checkout monitor. Anytime I miss something when scanning he jumps on me about it, just a generally annoying old man. Today he yelled at the guy in front of me because his ass was hanging out of his pants. Who gives a damn man? Since when did Albertson’s employees get the title of morality police?
I retired back to my room, avoiding people and keeping to my cave while the whole world went to crap outside. As I watched facebook around 6 while everybody posted their “just home from work” status updates on facebook and EVERYBODY I KNOW was having a crappy day. It was like we had all synched up.
Does that mean we’re living in the endtimes? I mean seriously, put everybody on the planet into IMS/PMS at the same time so they’ll all just kill each other off! It’s a genius idea, the new signs of the apocalypse would be bloating, cramps, irritability, and general moodiness.
Lovely.
I have an alternative diagnosis:
It’s not Uncle Flo isn’t the problem, its the slow dawning of reality.
Don’t worry about it – see you soon at Happy Daze (maximum security home for the terminally bewildered)
lol I think I just got silvey’d.