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Once A Month, I Deserve a Teeny Rant

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I really try to keep it positive here. I try to keep it positive everywhere.

In fact, I think my overall attitude has really improved over the last year or so. Not that I have ever been a surly person. Anyone who barely knows me would probably consider me to be pretty happy.

Those who know me well though, (and those who listen to the radio show) know that  my  sensitive, emotional, and sometimes irrational tendencies.

But hey, I’ve been working on it.

And at least now I’m able to recognize when I’m letting my emotions drive my behavior and my decisions. True, it’s sometimes after the fact, but it’s a start.

A lot of my dialectical behavioral therapy sessions revolve around emotional regulation. The goal is to not ignore your emotions, but to recognize them and to know when and how to react to them. I know it’s ok to feel uncomfortable. It’s alright even to feel downright melancholy. It’s good to share those feelings. But it’s not a great idea to start crying in the middle of dinner before you even have time to figure out what’s even going on.

That being said, sometimes no amount of meditation, mindfulness, gratitude lists or positive thinking is enough to squash the irritation I feel at the pit of my stomach.

And usually “sometimes” occurs every twenty eight days and coincides with my need to by tampons and cookie brownies.

Unfortunately for me (and my boyfriend,) sometimes is now.

And right now, I am allowing myself to get a few of these annoyances off of my chest.

First of all, why are some things so difficult to open?

immodiom

That’s right. I’m looking at you immodium.

When I’m having a bad case of the stomach gurgles, the last thing I need is to break all of my teeth trying to open up these tiny plastic labyrinth like containers.

I totally get that they have to be baby proof, but why not just put a picture of a monster on them or something?

Also, MY TRUCK IS NOT A TRASHCAN!

I get it. My truck isn’t pretty. It has a giant dent on the side, but I blame that on the orange poles at Whataburger.

That doesn’t mean it is a place for you to dispose of your fast food bags and beer cans. It’s really gross, and I’m really lazy and don’t like to have to throw them away.

Furthermore, Stop Calling me -MARKETERS!

I don’t know when or how I got on the list to be surveyed about home protection when I don’t even own a home, or why I am constantly being hounded to and get a degree from internet college, but I want it to stop!

Unless you are selling spicy beef jerky or rides in a Tardis, I don’t want any part of it.


pms

And while I’m not on the subject, PUT YOUR GROCERY CART BACK WHERE IT BELONGS!

I know it’s not my responsibility to be your mother, and I definitely don’t have to go out of my way to put your grocery cart back in the rack, but it’s an OCD thing and I can’t help myself.

That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I’m also wishing you a bad case of diarrhea, just in case you were wondering.

And by the way, I will never ever ever ever want you to wash my windows.

So please stop accosting me while I’m peacefully listening to Radio Lab in my car. Yes, I’m aware my car is dirty-I’m the one who hasn’t washed it in over a year. I like it that way.

I happen to enjoy the game of trying to see through the sap on my windshield.

Also, I don’t have any cash.

Whew. I feel a lot better. Now I don’t have to take this out on my loved ones. Thanks for being my emotional punching bag.

What’s on your nerves today? I’m all ears.

 

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