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Oh. Mah. Gawd. STAB.

You know how you ask for patience sometimes? You feel yourself starting to lose it and you think to yourself “Self, rein it in….no sense going all crazy on people who clearly don’t get that I am all hormonal and borderline insane ANYWAY.”


Lady in W*lgreens pharmacy: I think she was a tech. Stab. Please don’t walk past me 57 times when I just have a simple question. At the very least, the VERY LEAST, acknowledge my existence by saying something or nodding in my direction, ok? If not, I will come over that counter. Don’t test it.

Child in church last night: I get that you were tired/cranky/sleepy/did not wanna be there, but shut it. I seriously prayed in church last night the following: “Hi, Jesus? Uh huh, me again. OK, I remember Fr. Steve telling us a while ago that Jesus could be presented to us in anyone – a homeless man on the street, our boss who is testing our patience, etc. If you are this kid? This one right here? Stop it. Or I am putting you in time out. Love ya. PS Thanks for giving hubs and I a day off together.” I’m not joking. That was truly what I was praying.

Gage: If you jump on me and hit my boobs with your paws once more (they are sore) then I am going to sell you into dog slavery to some farm somewhere that they will make you pull a plow and actually earn your food. Oh and PS – that little sit, shake, lay and roll thing you do? That is NOT earning your food.

TV writers: I’m not kidding. HURRY THE HELL UP. Before I have to (shudder) take up a non-TV related hobby. Gives me the shakes even typing that.

P*pa Johns: If you bastards send me one more stack of coupons during Lent, I promise you I will start fire bombing. I’ll be seeing you soon enough. Me – you – March 24 – it’s on, bitches.

House: Please learn how to clean yourself because I’m tired and really this dusting shit? It just comes back in 2 days and makes me mad.

I’m sure there is more that I am leaving out but damn it, my mind is all muddled and I am looking at my coffee table as it mocks me with the dust and smudges. Sigh. I want Judy Jetson’s life.


12 Responses

  1. Love the prayer. Seriously.

    2 weeks till Sheldon is back!!!!!!!

  2. Jess, Judy Ketson was helped agreat deal by the wonders of space-technology. Of course, she had to endure that doofus George for a husband.

  3. “Jetson” I meant “Jetson”!

  4. Update – house is clean and sadly, did NOT do it itself.

  5. Damn right. You tell ’em.

  6. Oh. I have prayers like that too. But I try to bargain. Like “God, if you can help make X happen, I promise to never Y again.”

  7. Oh man.

    You are one strong woman to be giving up the P. John’s for Lent!!

  8. Well you could just say it’s not pizza…it’s just bread with tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni. Just like how during lent you’re not suppose to eat meat but we’re all eating fish. Same concept.

    Send the dog here. Hire a maid.

    See? Everything taken care of.

  9. SORE BOOBS????????????

    Dude, that was the FIRST SIGN of my first pregnancy. Seriously. No other symptoms for the first two weeks other than my boobs were sore. (After that I was sick for 5 months straight and throwing up in grocery store parking lots, empty coffee cans in my car and of course the toilet every day… but really… sore boobs was the first sign.)


  10. Hey, that would be fab (about the sore boobs meaning I am knocked to the up) but I get this monthly with PMS. But hey, I’ll take the positive thoughts!


  11. I am so laughing at your prayers! Keep it real girl! Lent will be over before you know it!

  12. There is just sooooo much to comment on here……good luck on all of it! Please don’t stab anyone though 🙂

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