Have a Good Day?? Don't Fucking Tell Me What to Do. (Not for the Faint of Balls. I Mean, Heart)

There is a severe shortage of people who will allow curmudgeons like me the opportunity to freely express and experience our periodic emotional cracks, grumbles, and the occasional sourness that allows us to function the rest of the time in a somewhat normal fashion.  (We even go so far as to smile and laugh sometimes.  We just don't feel the need to fucking brag about it all the damn time.)  There is totally nothing wrong with being surly.  Those of you who smile too much could really learn a thing or two about a nice cleansing grumble from time to time.       

While talking to my girlfriend on the phone the other night, I sorta experienced a psychotic break and ranted for a few minutes.  Uh, I mean, I 'had an enlightening and life-changing epiphany'.  We were talking about how 1) Shit happens. and 2) The occasional acknowledgment of said "shit" does not equal a life ruining event. (She has been on the other end of the phone for some of the fo-serious "bad shit" so...she is kind of an expert in that area.)  In fact, having the ability to be able to freely express the occasional disappointment and stuff is normal and sometimes even healthy.  We may not always do it in the most flowery and sugar-coated way, but that takes practice.  I guess.  This means sometimes I am not going to be the most pleasant person to be around on any given day.  As the imaginary sign on my office door says:  "Deal or GTFO".  It's right next to my Employee of the Month plaque (also imaginary).

Honestly, I really don't know why I have not been selected to run a Team Building course at work.  Nothing brings a group closer together than some good old fashioned bitching and non-constructive criticism.  In fact, one of my former "managers" did give me a glowing recommendation this one time when she told me she had a dream I came into work and went postal on everyone.  My response was "Well, you know, Captain Twatwaffle (not her real name), if anyone was going to do it, it would be me!"  *charming smile*  It dawned on me later that she may not have intended that as a compliment.  Huh....go figure.  

ANYhoodles - If you want to be my friend or .... something, don't be afraid to ask me how my day is going - even if you know I'm going to say I stabbed someone with my stapler.  You have to be willing to hear the bad shit along with the sunshine and rainbows stuff (which I personally find a little boring).  Also, don't try to force a smile out of me before I am good and ready.  I will get there in my own time.  But there exists a fine line between me tolerating your "charm" and my foot up your ass.

Do you want to know how to irritate me before I've had my coffee?  Tell me to have a good day.  Bonus points:  Do it in a sing-songy voice.   Bossy asshole.  I will shove that coffee stirrer so far up your ass, your proctologist will have to perform a deep sea dive to get that sucker out.  (Snorkeling, anyone?)

Things I Could Do Without:

• Endless optimism for no apparent reason.  That shit is annoying as fuck.  I don't care if your glass is half full.  If you incessantly brag about it, I will turn that mother fucker upside down on your head.  

      

• Birds chirping.  (Also annoying as fuck.)  It's snowing outside you asshole birds.  Knock it off.

• Singing mice who also whistle while making me pretty dresses.  (Eh, on second thought, those might be pretty cool.  I will kiss them and hug them and name them George and Marley.  I will teach them to juggle tiny things and we will get discovered and have our own variety show and become rich and famous.  See?  I'm charming as FUCK.)

• Lemonade.  I prefer tequila and salt with my lemons.  And lots of it.

• Someone saying to me:  "Smile!  It could always be worse!*smiley face*"  No shit, Sherlock.  I've probably seen more "worse" than your happy little ball of friggin sunshine ass would allow to enter into its awesome bubbly realm of glowing fantastical and utterly magical happiness.  Please allow me this moment of "Ugh" while I work my way up to "Not killy".  If you tell me to smile for no god damned reason I will stab you in the face with a crayon.   (That may not sound very bad, but it will probably be a broken crayon - yes - as broken as my poor twisted black emo heart - and thus maybe slightly sharp.  Or at least kinda jagged..or something.)  Danger?  My middle name is Danger.  So suck on that.

• Stop trying to make "perky" happen.  It's not going to happen.

Things I Need in My Life:

• Friends who will leave me the fuck alone when I need space to just think, or breathe or .... cry (Psh, I don't cry, but I mean, IF I did.)

• Friends (uh, probably different friends) who will let me call and scream into the phone for no apparent reason.  These friends should speak fluent Angst and also be able to reassure me that, no matter what I am upset about, I am right, everyone else is wrong and I was completely justified in keying the car of the barrista who failed to put enough cream in my coffee. I mean, justified in whatever action may or may not have been the result of my distress.  (Ignore the part about the car keying.  You can't prove SHIT.)

• A period playlist.  Some tunes to jam out to while I am droppin' eggs would be the shiz.  Something upbeat and soothing by, like, "Drowning Pool" or "Avenged Sevenfold".

• A gay best friend.  I need a man in my life who can hold me, stroke my hair, (without the boner thx) and let me lament about that shoe sale I missed, while I beat my fists against the wall and scream "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!?!"  And then write some haiku poetry about why DSW hates me.  Nobody understands the fucking tragedy of a missed shoe sale like a gay BFF.  Nobody.

• An unlimited supply of chocolate-covered-everything with zero calories - covered in whipped cream.

• Bacon.

• A life-sized Jon Hamm doll.

• Ten thousand dollars in unmarked bills.  (Why? Because fuck off, that's why.  It's MY list.)

• A heating pad and some Midalium.  (That's a drug I invented which is a combination of Midol and Valium.  You're welcome.)

I really don't think that is too much to ask, do you? 

Dick.

This blog has been brought to you by the letters "P", "M", and "S"  and the color "Red".

If you took any of this blog seriously, you need help.  I am usually a ray of fucking sunshine.  

Ask anyone.