And tense. Don't forget tense!
By Friday, all will be Mostly Good. But until then...
I have a busy week coming up. Work will be fraught with stress thanks to deadlines, large events, and more deadlines.
I still have this lingering "kennel cough" I picked up on the plane back from San Francisco, and I need to be rid of it by next Saturday when the wonderfully fun weekend of Dolby-Fest 2006 starts at Rams Head in Annapolis. I refuse to be the annoying person in the audience hacking up a lung and irritating the crap out of everyone at the gig. Of course, even if I am still coughing, I will not be as annoying as the one idiot who will be yelling "SCIENCE!" all evening, or the couple who, invariably, will show up to play deep throat tonsil hockey at a front row table, despite having paid $33 a pop to listen to the music.
Man, am I ever irritable and cranky today, eh? I need some caffeine and a little sugar, I'm betting.
I will cut myself a little slack. One of my brothers, whose health is fragile, had a pacemaker put in at the end of last week. He did not tolerate the procedure well. I keep thinking about that.
I snapped at a woman in traffic today. She *did* deserve it, frankly. But I think the Sasquatch might be right, and I could have toned it down a little. Let me paint you the picture: suburban mom, probably around 40. Mini van, two kids in back. She's exceeding the speed limit and swerving.
She was cutting paper and gluing pictures as she drove. That's right folks, she was freaking scrapbooking behind the wheel of her car! Look, someone wants to kill themselves behind the wheel, fine. But she had two kids in there, plus all the rest of us. I honked at her, got next to her at a light and did the "shame on you" hand gesture. She tossed the scrapbook in the passenger seat, but she still had her little red adhesive tape roller in her right hand and little edging shears in her left. Her window came down and she giggled, saying, "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. Hee hee."
Here's where I may have gone a bit too far, since she did have kids in the car. I said, "You're a fucking idiot." And I said it loudly.
She put down her adhesive roller and started to cry. The light changed, and I drove away. Yes, as the Sasquatch later pointed out to me, it was pretty harsh for me to call her a "fucking idiot." But, frankly, she was a Fucking Idiot. She was doing crafts while driving 50+ mph down a busy road with two children in her car. Kids deserve a mom behind the wheel who isn't trying to glue a picture of Jimmy Joe Bob's graduation into a scrapbook at the same time she is accelerating and decelerating. Color me a jerk, but that's my take on it.
Unless that scrapbook is a ransom, and the kidnappers are going to kill someone if that BBQ page isn't finished by noon, you save the crafts for home. And I'm speaking as someone who owns a couple of shelves of rubber stamps and funky paper.
I dunno. Maybe getting hit by that car has made me a little more edgy about stuff like this, but, c'mon people! Just a little common sense would be nice, no?
Cranky chick signing off.