I am Woman

As if I ever doubted it, currently subject as I am to a menstrual cycle from beyond the grave, raging, raw, human-animal hormones that war against the societal and professional proprieties which dictate that when I really want to rip the throats out of my employees and feast on man-flesh, I have to instead poke myself mercilessly with my pencil and deny the urge...oh, and that begins the litany, children, yoked as I am in marriage and motherhood to a pack of ravenous javelinas who seem to explode in hungered hoots every time I sit the fuck down..."What's for dinner, hon?", as if I haven't already put in a nine-hour day at the office, in addition to feeding, bathing, clothing, chauffeuring, and speaking kindly to his offspring. I want to scream, "your babymaker, you bastard!", and feed it to him in slices, like a fatty pepperoni. His children who, no matter how often I lecture, scold, or beat, cannot seem to pee in an aimed stream, or remember not to leave their stinky wrestling clothes in an airtight bag under the bed for nine months, or close the refrigerator door. And don't even begin to suggest that my DNA might be at any sort of fault for this...noooo...It's his. Everyone in my family manages to keep shoe-drool to a minimum. His family? Not so much...

And speaking of family, I'm sure I'll be bleeding like the heart of Tim Robbins during Thanksgiving, too, when my mother-in-love comes to irritate the fuck out of me with her oh-so-superior attitude, and her subtle criticisms of everthing from my hairstyle to the way I fold my towels. Oh, yes. That ought to be a picnic! Especially knowing that if there's one thing I can count on this holiday season, it will be that my husband will be too drunk to stand by four p.m., leaving my ass with the fucking bag to hold, for the remainder of the "holiday party".

Thus speaks Queenie, little ray of sunshine.

I should look for some sort of bright side, really. Here - I'll start by thinking happily of my Christmas bonus, and the portion thereof which will go to my friend Ramon, the Mexican pharmacist. My new reindeer? On, Valium, on Lortab! On, Soma, Flexeril! On, Xanax, on Vicodin, on Oxycontin, on Cocktail...