throw down

My brother-in-law asked me last week why I blog. I told him I started so that Matt's family could keep in touch with what was happening around here, but in the end, it is just good therapy. I don't know where this post will end up going, but I have a feeling it will be very therapeutic. For me, at least. And, you will think I am a crazy bitch. Whatevs.

This morning, I went to Walmart. On a typical Friday trip to Walmart, I leave with two carts full. This morning, there was about 10 things on my list, so there were approximately 20 things in my cart, give or take about 10.

There were two check outs open. In a SuperWalmart. On a Friday. A 'normal' one and another for those patrons with less than 20 items. I did a quick scan and figured I was in the vicinity of 20, again, give or take or give 10. Definitely no more than 30.

I let two people go ahead of me since they were only buying one thing each.

Half way through my checkout, an older man of maybe 75 walks up and throws his four items on the counter. He is clearly pissed about my estimate of the number of items I had in my cart. I did what I could to move things along faster for this gentleman overgrown child who clearly had more important places to be than in the check out at Walmart behind me... someone who was not following the 'rules' or could not read. You know, seriously, I MAY NOT KNOW MY NUMBERS! He doesn't know. 

After he had to spend a total of about 3 minutes more than he would have had to if I had gone to the correct line (and as I am walking away), he says to the cashier, "Are you sure you take only 4 items in this lane?"  I turned around and laughed right at him, BECAUSE I MAY HATE NOTHING MORE THAN PASSIVE AGRESSIVENESS in people. I almost told him to suck it, as he glared at me, but that would not have been nice. When he came out into the parking lot, he was giving me the stink eye.

Come on... yes, sir, your life is oh so much more important than mine, and I am sure you are late for your bingo game, your daily coffee at McDonald's with your homeys, or Wheel a Fortune which comes on at 11, and that gives you every reason to act like a child with your little hissy fit. I have no place to be, really, after all. I don't have a life, 10 jobs, three kids (make that 4 on some days), a household to manage, carpooling, pets, etc. And, if I don't get my butt home, my meatballs will not be ready in time for tailgating. Seriously, I have things to do, too.

I know that I wasn't following the rules to a T. But, you know what? I. Don't. Care. I know I should care, and you could list for me all of the reasons that I should, but I still wouldn't. Not today. 

I am just tired.

I am tired of stuff.

I am tired of being treated like a doormat.

I am tired of people thinking their time or feelings are more important than those of others.

I am tired of people thinking they can walk all over me and my children.

I am tired of people thinking I must be a "yes" woman because that is what they want me to be.

I am tired of the attempts to manipulate me and my children.

I am tired of doing, doing, doing and then being treated like crap.

I am tired of having to be physically and mentally present in every aspect of my life, and no one really gives a hoot.

I am tired of some in my life thinking their shit doesn't stink, just like mine does.

I am tired of adults that act like children.
I am tired of children that think they have the rights of adults.

I am tired of people - adults & children - who feel entitled in life.

I am tired of mole hills that get made into mountains when they could clearly remain mole hills.
I am tired of being the rule follower, and then getting crapped on.

How that man in line behind me brought all of THAT out, I don't know. But, I must say that I feel much better, thank you.

Here's the thing. I know many of you - of the female variety - feel exactly the same way that I do. I can hear it in your voices and read it between the lines.

We take on too much, allow ourselves to be manipulated into things that aren't healthy for us, try to be everything to everyone so we fit "the part", get pulled in 100 different directions every day... and, then some jerk behind you in line at Walmart pisses you off so bad that you are breathing fire.

Seriously guys. I feel much better.