It's June. I sleep late in June. Not sleeping late is not good for my mind.
My tired-yness makes for a very cranky momma, a very itchy momma, a very stabby momma. I'm not thinking in a nice way. And I'm normally very nice, dammit. Really. I am. Normally. But, tonight, I sat down at my computer and all I could think of were cranky, itchy, stabby comments.
Let's be clear: Like my real life, I like my virtual life to be nice. I like it to be respectful. I like it to be relatively drama free, unless we're talking about the crap-house crazies that are coming out of their momma's basements to try out for America's Got Talent. (Yeah, I'm looking at you, Prince Poppycock.)
But, tonight, I refrained. I held my virtual tongue and did not post my tired rants and comments and statuses on Facebook or Twitter.
I am, however, going to post them here. When I'm tired I can't be expected to show great restraint.
You're mad at your boyfriend/husband/significant other/baby daddy. I get it. He seems kinda loser-ish (and I'm not just saying that because he hooked up with you). But, for the love of all things written on a bathroom wall, do not call him vile names on social media. And if you refuse to pack him a special kind of mango for his lunch but you plan on, instead, squishing it into his bohonkus while he's sleeping, well, let's just let that be between you and him, alright?
Your job probably does suck. You dropped out of high school and pretty much, with that level of education, you've peaked. But, you seem to enjoy your phone (with which you take selfies in the bathroom at said sucky workplace) and appear to use your car quite a bit (to take selfies using the rearview mirror) and you obviously like your electricity, which runs the computer that you use to take selfies. Also? You're an adult. So, you have to go to work. You have to have a job. You have to pay your bills. Suck it up, buttercup. Complaining gets you nothing but the unfriend button.
Oh, hello random man posting on my timeline. I will not be your freind nor will I send you a pix. I'm kinda into guys who can spell friend correctly. (Hint: It ends in END.) Plus, that profile pic of you cupping the Hooters waitress is so classy. Is that professionally done or did you use your flip phone to capture the magical moment, Mr. Sauce On Your Cheek.
Invitation to your bridal shower? How thoughtful! But, I'll decline. Your first shower was so nice. So was your first husband. Your second shower was lovely. I'm sure your third and fourth showers were a delight. Sorry to miss them, but I figure if you can't get marriage right by the that time, I'm not going to waste my time and money getting you a new set of towels for your fifth bridal shower in almost as many years. Maybe you should have Tupperware parties instead. They are less costly and people won't judge you for your rash decision-making skills. Warmest wishes, though. I'm going to go buy myself some new towels instead.
In a relationship? Congrats! Oh, no. Single? Too bad. It's complicated? Sounds like it. Single again? Well... In a relationship? Glad you worked it out. Complicated? What the-- In a relationship? Holy bi-polar statuses, Batman. Single? I understand. I wanna break up with you too. Complicated? Damn straight it is. Well, I gotta run. The commercial's over. FYI--that means the General Car Insurance advertisements are longer than your relationships.
You don't feel well. I get it. You think you are sick. I understand. You just want to lay down and recuperate and feel better. I wish for you those things. However, you cannot have a migraine and update your social media status at the same time. You especially cannot have a migraine and update your social media statuses several times. In an hour. Lay down and stop posting. You're giving me a migraine.
I'm glad to hear that you're in therapy. Maybe you could share your partner's inadequate-ness, your children's shortcomings, your own daddy/momma issues, your money woes, and/or your addictions with your therapist. Or maybe you could pay me. Yes. I like that a lot. Pay me. I'll be kinda like Twitter. Your first 140 characters are free. After that, I'll need your credit card number.
Cute cat. Cute cat in on the couch. Cute cat in the planter. Cute cat on your bed. Look--there's the cat in a basket. And there's the cat in the sock drawer. Oh! A cat in a different basket. And a cat on the table. Don't you have children? I know you do. I remember seeing them holding the cat for your Christmas photo. And now there's a cat hiding in the cabinet.
Whew! There. It's out of my system. Nice momma will be back tomorrow.