In Which I Behave Like A Total Cunt

Do I smell PMS in the breeze? I really hope the fuck not, but I lost control of my Vesuvian temper today, much to my hindsighted chagrin.

Look, I try to be nice, I really, really do. I am one of the most polite, well-mannered people you would ever want to meet, in real life...unless and until you a) hurt or harm one of my children, in which case I will fuck you up so badly you will wish that I'd just gone ahead and killed you, b) injure or engender le tristesse upon one of my friends in my sight or hearing, or c) assume you can unload your psychic baggage upon me without a specific invitation. It was c) what done me in today. Thrice, even!

Item: Do NOT call me in the middle of a work-day, and accuse me of being delinquent on an account for which my payments are current. Do NOT scream at me, personally insult me, or cuss at me during this undeserved tirade, because I might just wait until you're not expecting it, drive over to your building, find your sorry ass, and, after fashioning a neat, tight noose, hang you with your own lower intestine. In front of your boss. And your co-workers. Check with "Judy" at my child's after-school gig as to the veracity of this statement. She won't be collecting many more paychecks from that particular "enrichment program" - and I doubt she'll be sitting comfortably tonight, either.

Item: Do NOT, even if you are old and limping behind a walker, scream and curse at me when I politely hold a door open for you instead of ignoring your existence like some rude Yankee. I will subsequently slam said door in your face, I will scream and curse back, and I will probably use terms that your crotchety septuagenarian ass has never even heard. Not only that, but I will take down your license plate number, run a plate search when I get to the office, and later call the DMV on you, pretending to be your concerned daughter, recommending license revocation due to senility issues. "And can you make sure they give Daddy an eye test? He just don't see as well as he used to, since the cataract surgery..."

Item: Whatever you do, do NOT strike your wife or girlfriend and call her a stupid bitch when I am sitting in a parked car right next to you, even if you are my down-the-block neighbor. I will hurl my boiling-hot Starbuck's mocha at your back - and I will hit you with it - and when you approach my vehicle, I will pull my .22 out from under the seat and promise to shoot your sorry self should you advance so much as another inch. I will also call the 5-0, and sit there and wait until they arrive, to ensure the safety of the woman you just put the beat down on. And, should my personal property somehow become damaged in days to come, I will take it out on you by burning your motherfucking house to the god-damn ground, whether the shit was your fault or not.

Of course, I drive away from all of these sorts of incident feeling rather embarrassed...PMS can be so exposing, don't you think?